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The Watcher
by Thomas Miller
Mortimore stumbled and wandered, his feet dragging on the ground as he reached the bridge. He looked down, and the river below seemed to call to him - a safe haven in a tumultuous life. The bridge stood tall, the water running below it like a lifeline. He stepped over the threshold, and a chill crawled up his spine. He took a deep breath and surveyed the bridge. The metal creaked and groaned, the river swelled and churned, as if trying to drag him in.
He was about to make a break for it, when a voice stopped him in his tracks.
“If you plan on jumping, you better be able to count to ten.”
Mortimore spun around. There was a woman there, her face lined with age, her eyes bearing a strange kind of knowledge. She was dressed in plain clothing, but there was something about her that Mortimore couldn't quite put his finger on.
“Who are you?” Mortimore asked.
“I'm no one,” the woman said. “But you can count, can't you?”
Mortimore shook his head. He had always had difficulty with numbers. He was so embarrassed by his inability to count that he had never even tried to learn.
The woman smiled. “That's alright. It's not a requirement for being human.” She reached out and touched his arm. “Come with me. I have something that can help you.”
Mortimore hesitated, but the woman's words had given him a glimmer of hope. He followed her off the bridge, and they walked together in silence until they reached an old building. The woman opened the door and gestured for Mortimore to enter.
Once inside, Mortimore could see that the building was a school. There were chairs and desks, and a whiteboard on the wall. The woman explained that it was a special school, designed to help people like Mortimore who had difficulty with numbers. She said she had been teaching there for many years, and that she could help Mortimore learn to count.
Mortimore accepted her offer, and for the next few weeks, he attended the classes. Slowly but surely, he began to learn how to count. He learned to subtract and add, and soon he was able to count to ten.
At the end of the course, Mortimore thanked the woman for her help and said goodbye. He walked away with a newfound sense of confidence, no longer ashamed of his inability to count. As he walked, he stopped and realized that the woman had been right.
He was human after all..