He, the old man, sat there in his
wheelchair noticing the elderly
woman across the room seated
in hers. It’s late and the day is
waning. He imagined the woman
years younger and wonders about
the life she may have had forty,
fifty, sixty years ago. Married with
several children, he’s guessing, or
perhaps single, committed to a
career? He bets she was a looker
in her day, pursued by many a
would-be-suitor. It’s of little or no
consequence now, he figures, for
too many years have passed before
the curse of old age had set in. Ah
sweet memories, all a flash in the
pan now. No regrets, though, they
did then what could be or that
which needed to be done.
Now here they were breathing
in and out as yet another long
day of enchanted and repulsive
memories comes to an end.
She sat alone, white-haired and
wrinkled in her chair across the
room. And he seated gruff and
rumpled in his time in place.
Neither of them with a single
word to convey. Orderlies came
and escorted them off to dinner.
Goddamned liver and onions again!
-30-
Chris Hanch 9-5-2022
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