#159: Fair

Peter stood at the bar, nursing his beer. It was the only one he could afford, and he made it last. There was nowhere else to go and nothing else to do. These weekends, when he once saw his kids, were now two days of longing. They had grown up and had lives of their own and believed they would not make the same mistakes he had made.

Peter could see through the bar a happy family having a Sunday lunch together. Sitting at the head of the table was a man with grey hair. He was clean shaven and happy.

Seated around him was his family. His wife, still beautiful, had a grandkid on her lap. Peter couldn’t tell if it was a boy or a girl. The clothes and haircut gave nothing away.

Their kids were all happily married, and Peter finally worked out which kid belonged to which couple.

The father came to the bar to order the food and Peter watched as he confidently looked back at each family member to recall what they wanted. Without a care in the world, he produced a gold credit card.

The man, a little taller than Peter, asked one last question and the bartender pointed towards the back of the bar. The man walked around and into the bar to where the toilets were.

Peter swivelled on his bar stool and watched the man enter with his perfect life following behind.

It pained Peter that a man could go through life without the burden of his mistakes. He felt it in his clenched fists.

Peter went into the bathroom to teach this man that not everything in life is fair.