Before It’s Too Late
James sat on a bench at the bus stop, watching cars crawl along the wet road. The cold March wind crept under his thin jacket, but he barely felt it. He was waiting. For what? He didn’t know. A sign, maybe. An answer to the question gnawing at him: “What now?”
His life had ground to a halt, like a scratched record. His office job made him sick, his empty flat echoed with silence, and the dreams that once burned bright had dimmed into something unrecognisable. Each day was a carbon copy of the last, and waking up grew harder every morning.
He pulled out his phone, mindlessly scrolling through news feeds. His mum’s unread message flashed: “How are you, love? You haven’t called.” James didn’t reply. What could he say? That he was falling apart? That every day felt like wasted time?
The bus arrived, but he didn’t move. Why bother when he felt as hollow as an abandoned house?
“Oi, mate, you got the time?” a rough voice cut in.
James looked up. A bloke in his mid-twenties stood there, wearing a worn-out jacket, a heavy rucksack slung over his shoulder. His face was tired, but his eyes sparked with life.
“Ten to eleven,” James muttered, glancing at his watch.
“Cheers. I’m Liam,” the stranger said, offering his hand.
James shook it reluctantly, not offering his own name.
“You just sitting here alone?” Liam asked, dropping onto the bench beside him.
“Thinking.”
“‘Bout what?”
James gave a bitter chuckle.
“How to get out of this bloody rut.”
Liam set his rucksack down and studied him with interest.
“Been there. Just crawled out of it myself, actually. Know what I figured?”
“What?”
“If life’s got no meaning, make your own. I quit my job, packed a bag, and just left. Here today, somewhere else tomorrow. Living how I want.”
“And that worked?”
Liam nodded, a quiet certainty in his gaze.
“It’s my life now, not just days to get through.”
James stayed quiet. Something twisted inside him—like his heart remembering how to beat.
They talked for hours, until midnight, shivering on that cold bench. Liam told him about handing in his notice, how fear had paralysed him, but the thought of a life full of regrets had been worse.
“Don’t wanna die wondering ‘what if,'” he said. “You can do it too. Just take the step.”
James watched him, and for the first time in years, a fragile hope flickered in his chest.
“Maybe…” he whispered.
When they parted, James walked home, his thoughts churning like a river after the thaw. He knew—if he didn’t change now, he’d be stuck in this emptiness forever.
At home, he slumped at the table, opened his laptop, and searched for train tickets. Anywhere. Just to escape. His finger hovered over “Buy.” His heart pounded as if trying to break free.
“Do it,” he rasped to himself.
And he clicked.
The next day, James was on a train, watching blurry town lights flash past. He’d chosen a quiet seaside town—not too far, but far enough to breathe new air. His pocket held a small sum, saved over a year. He knew it wouldn’t last without work.
On his first day, he rented a bunk in a hostel. He wandered narrow streets, popped into cafés and shops, asking if they needed help. By evening, knackered but undefeated, he spotted a notice: “Help wanted at boat repair workshop. No experience necessary.”
“Looking for someone?” he asked the bearded workshop owner.
“Yeah,” the man eyed him. “Got any skills?”
“Haven’t tried, but I’ll learn fast.”
The next day, James started work. It was hard at first—his hands fumbled, the tools felt foreign. But each day, he felt himself coming alive. For the first time in years, he woke up knowing the day ahead wasn’t just another grind—it was something real.
His life didn’t change overnight. But he’d done the one thing that mattered—stepped into the unknown. And that was enough to make the world turn towards him.
