Character Portrait, Essay Example

While most men are viewed as large, superior beings Philip’s limp body and weak frame prove the opposite.  The bright-rimmed glasses around his eyes perfectly accent his wrinkled facial features and elderly aura.  A weakened right leg forces a noticeable limp in his stride, which requires the use of a small wooden cane for support.  Still, Philip showed his prideful nature in his attire.  No one in town had ever seen Philip outside of his one-story condo dressed in anything other than the same faded blue suit with a red tie.  The white dress shirt underneath was always perfectly ironed every morning, although a yellow stain appeared around the collar from the man’s sweat.  Every button was buttoned correctly, and the jacket was never allowed to fall too far from the body, despite his unnatural weight loss that continued to affect his health more and more.

Philip became the talk of the town whenever he would leave him home.  His health had deteriorated and forced many people to wonder if he had died and when someone was going to check to see if the condo had accumulated a horrible odor.  One full year and three months had passed before Philip ventured out of his condo again.  His shoes were perfectly shined.  His suit had been taken in to accommodate for the smaller frame, and his hair was combed backwards and held in place by a black bowler hat that was two sizes too large.  Everywhere around him the people of the small town whispered in awe that Philip had left his home.  He slowly made his way down the sidewalk dragging his right leg and clanking the cane to the cement, one after another.  Not one person made an attempt to speak to the man and his eyes never lifted from the path in front of him.  Neither he nor the townsfolk appeared to have any inclination to want to make acquaintance after such a long time apart.

Philip pushed the door of the post office open with all his might, which allowed for just enough room for his small figure to slide through.  He began his patterned sound of drag and clank as he made his way down the hall and into the main room.  The old man took his place in line and never looked up to anyone standing in front of him.  The people continued to whisper, but he did not show any sign that he could hear their words nor cared what was being said.  Finally, his place in line moved forward to the front desk.

“How are you today, sir?” asked the postal worker.

Philip cleared his throat as softly and as quietly as possible as if to avoid interrupting anyone around him or making a spectacle of himself.  He cleared his throat for several seconds.  Finally, he took off his hat, placed it on the counter top and looked up at the worker through his glasses.  “Just fine, ma’am,” he answered in the slowest southern drawl. “I’ma here todah to collect me some a dem stamps ya’ll have.  Gots me a relative needs a callin’ on.”

“Yes, sir.  How many stamps do you need?”

“I reckon I needs me ‘bout ten a’ dem stamps.”

“Absolutely.  Here you are sir.”

“Thank ye kindly.”

Philip took the stamps off the counter and placed them in his front shirt pocket.  He perfectly replaced his oversized hat on his head and turned around.  The sound of the drag and clank made its way down the sidewalk back to the front door of the old man’s home.  The final legend of Philip was told throughout town.  Though no one was very close to him nor knew of any family he had, every single townsperson was in attendance at his funeral three years later.  Not one person had seen him since that day at the Post Office, and many were curious to see if Philip had actually died.  Still, Philip was seen by the entire congregation at his funeral dressed in the same suit, tailored yet again to fit his frame, glasses still on his head, cane at his side, and his bowler hat laying perfectly on his chest.