He was nothing more than an unbelievably ordinary guy, anyone who knew him would tell you that.
On the face of it, there weren’t too many of these. You could say he was prosaic, hum-drum, in fact, a nobody. He worked as a clerk in a small company that imported parts for domestic appliances. His role there consisted mainly of keeping records; maintaining the paperwork that recorded where stuff came from and where it was going to. There were only a dozen people that worked in the place, with just two or three of these that he communicated with on a daily basis. He had never married. Living on his own in a tiny flat just a ten minute bus ride in from the outskirts of the city suited him fine. He had no hobbies, no pets, and no interests outside of maintaining his simple lifestyle; one that gave him no reason to complain.
The significance of what came to light on that evening was, and never will be, recognised for what it was. It was during a conversation with one of the ladies from the office and two men that he didn’t know that it happened. Both he and the woman had been required to work late and the conversation that buzzed around him was exclusively about how hard life was and how much better they thought the world should be. It had to be a combination of the lateness of the bus, together with the chill of the wind that had sharpened the bitterness of the complaints being aired. As usual, he said very little.
When he was eventually asked if he could name just one thing that was actually good about life, he replied, “Everything.”
