A Helping Hand

The dusk arrived as Kirk wandered from streets to streets empty handed and being useless. His stomach ached but he was used to the pain. The dark night soon spread all over the sky above his mind. Kirk stood in the middle of a civilisation, lonely and loaded. His tears first blurred his eyes as they journeyed like a river and flowed round the same path as his dried tears have flowed round his cheeks. The moon did not show up and the stars hid behind black clouds. He watched the dark sky. Suddenly, the clouds floated away and the stars twinkled. A figure walked towards him. It was an old man. He saw the man in the flickering light of the street lamp. The man was skinny and black and wore cheap proper clothes with dusty trousers. The man asked, "Hello boy! I am Mr. Bright. Why are you standing here and crying?" The gentleness of this man won Kirk. He had never experienced a kinder behaviour before from anyone except his sister. The man appeared an old friend to him. He opened up all his hardships, dreams and thoughts in brief to Mr. Bright. The man offered Kirk to stay at his house for free. Mr. Bright had no family, thus he wanted Kirk to stay as his son. Kirk happily went to live with his new old friend.