A cool breeze flowed through North Westown. It was mid-fall, and the signs of winter were becoming more and more apparent.
The door to the clinic opened, and Ford stepped out into the crisp morning air. Although it was just after dawn, the town doctor had been awake for hours, meticulously preparing for the days tasks.
He tended to his vegetable garden, watering, fertilizing and scrutinizing their progress. While it would be quite a stretch to call himself a farmer, his small fields did produce high quality produce.
The dusty town slowly began to wake up. Villagers began to go about their morning routine. Wayne’s charismatic voice carried over to the clinic, followed by several feminine giggles. Ford sighed. His extroverted friend usually went out of his way to greet every person he passed, with various enthusiastic women swooning over him.
Ford pondered what qualities his friend possessed that made him so popular amongst ladyfolk. It’s not as though he were jealous of the postman’s popularity–in fact he would rather loathe such an incessant coterie trailing him. But for some odd reason that he couldn’t resolve, lately he couldn’t help but feel somewhat…envious of Wayne’s natural likeability.
A swift wind rustled Ford’s hair, his hand mechanically extended to settle it back in place. The stern scholar had lived most of his life in a solitary state and saw no point, or possibility, of changing his lifestyle. He felt a sharp twinge in his chest. He had always been more than content in his own company, but recently the silence of his solitude kept him awake far past his regular sleep schedule.
Where on earth did this variation of his preferences originate? Why, after living his entire life satisfied with distanced acquaintance, did he start to crave human interaction? When did being alone start to feel so lonely?
A slight shiver shook Ford’s body. The wind was still.
