Discovering the Emotions: Sadness

An old man lives on the second floor of our building. A few years ago, before I started school, I used to think he didn’t exist, because I never ever saw him. But then one day I met him in the lift.

“Which floor, laddie?” he asked me in a glum voice as I stepped in.

“Six,” I replied, with my eyes lowered. My mum had told me not to talk to strangers, and since I didn’t know that this man was our neighbour, I didn’t strike up a conversation.

“So high up… almost to the heavens,” the old man uttered, trying to make a joke, but after he had said ‘heavens’ he looked even sadder.

The lift stopped at the second floor. “Well, have a nice day — I’m getting off here,” said the man.

And that was the first and last time we ever met. Occasionally, when I was playing in the playground with my friends, I would catch a glimpse of him sitting at the window, gazing out into the distance. But that was it.

Until today, when I went to knock on his door! I was a bit nervous about doing that, because I wasn’t sure he would remember me at all.

I took the stairs and stood for a moment just outside his door. The label on the doorbell said Jerome Brown.

I knocked. I could hear something rustling. Then the door opened. The old man didn’t even ask who was at the door. He clearly wasn’t as scared as old Mrs Orton on the first floor had been!

“Good afternoon, Mr Brown,” I said, as politely as I could.

He stared at me with his very, very sad eyes.

“Hello laddie,” he said slowly after what felt…