Dreams and Shadows (The Aylosian Chronicles Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

hurried down the three flights of stairs to the front doors of the flat block, taking two steps at a time, and threw his rucksack over his shoulder as he set off down the street.
    “Good morning Michael,” called a voice from the alleyway next to his flat block.
    “Hi Col,” Michael replied. “You okay this morning?”
    Michael glanced over his left shoulder at the homeless man who had made the alley his home. Preoccupied by his dream, his smile was forced today, but was nonetheless warmly returned. As much as Michael was annoyed by those who considered fashion a statement of personal value, he enjoyed the company of those whose lives enforced a degree of humility. Within a couple of days of moving in to his small flat he had met Col, and every morning and evening since then they had greeted each other. He liked the honesty that he would get from this middle-aged man – a man who had held a responsible position working for a large utility firm, but who had lost everything, including his home and family, when he’d had a breakdown a few years ago.
    Michael admired Col for his lack of bitterness. He had given so much through his life, and then when he experienced some tough times society didn’t just ignore him: it stripped him of everything; abandoning him to whatever oblivion he would choose. But Col didn’t choose oblivion. Despite it all, he found a way to be a happy man, always suggesting hope and optimism to his new young friend. Often when Michael had spare time in the morning they would stop and chat for a while, but Michael – although earlier than usual – was in a hurry today.
    “You’re off early today,” called his friend. “Something important?”
    Michael paused for a moment, not sure how to respond.  
    “Um, well. I don’t know really. Just some things I want to look at on the way to work I guess.” He hesitated for a moment, and then added, “If it’s interesting, I’ll tell you about it later.”
    “Sounds exciting,” Col called back. “I’ll see you tonight then.” He waved and turned back to whatever he had been doing in his makeshift shelter.
    As he resumed his walk, Michael reflected on just how much he liked his homeless friend. In all his life, he thought he probably only had known two friends – both of them homeless. The first was an old man who lived near the house he grew up in with Rob. Ever since he could remember, the old man lived in the nearby streets. Michael hadn’t ventured from the covers of whatever book he was ensconced in very often, but when he had, the old man was always nearby. Most people kept their distance from him, as if his homelessness made him contagious. But Michael found a strange comfort in being nearby, and though they rarely spoke, he imagined the man to look like a grandfather would, finding it more comforting to be near him than to anybody else.
    When he had told Rob about his job at the library earlier in the year, Rob had looked relieved and told Michael that he could support himself, giving him two weeks to find somewhere else to live. It was an absurdly short timescale, but he found the place in which he now resided within a week. Rob gave him enough for the deposit, and while Michael knew he had only done so in order to get him out sooner, Michael didn’t care.  
    His new place was tiny: the living room was really no more than a short wide hallway large enough for only one armchair, and the kitchen could hold only one person. And it was in desperate need of a complete refurbishment: the wallpaper was peeling, the carpets were stained, and there were holes in the old kitchen lino. But he was happy to have a place on his own: a place where he wasn’t accompanied by someone conspicuous by their neglect of him. His solitary regret when he moved, however, was that he would no longer see the old man.
    But Col had quickly filled the void, his tender watchfulness making him more of a father to him than he had ever known. There was something