Sober Jubilations

Oscar sat down for a moment on a queerly placed chair. For some reason a passing merry-goer had lost interest in it - probably upon hearing the DJ play her favorite song. He was glad for the respite though, as his feet were quite sore. Wandering around was a bit tiresome, even if he was only thanking everyone for the birthday wishes.

The gymnasium his children had rented out for the occasion would be packed for a long time yet. The sharp air outside bit anyone who thought about taking a break from the swelter of the dance floor. And the swirling drifts that snuck in the doorway increased the party's anxiety even further. It was only nine at night, but some of the guests had work in the morning.

Oscar looked at his new pocketwatch - a gift from his second son Frank. He had a class to teach in the morning, and his octogenarian bones would not agree with staying up too late. He could, of course, simply cancel the class. The students would not have minded but he would. Teaching was one of the small pleasures his feeble body still could muster. His wife had passed away years ago - four to be exact. The students helped him to ease the pain of aging.

His eyes lingered on the pocketwatch. The intricate details of the cover reminded him of a similar watch he had, many years before. His father had given him one similar the day he enrolled in the army. He had misplaced it once, long ago, and lost it. Only a couple years ago did he find it. Somehow it was in his wife's jewelry cabinent.