A walk in the park
The man sits in his room. Waiting. Waiting.
His decrepit fingers gently brush of his brown derby hat in hopes to impress…what was her name?
He stares out of his window. It’s sunny outside. A gorgeous day for a walk in the park.
Walking. I use to walk. With her. In the sun and in the rain, we always went for walks.
Getting close.
She would hold my arm and we would talk of everything and nothing. Where were we going?
The door to his room opens. A lovely woman enters dressed in a white uniform. A stranger, but familiar still. She does something to my arm and says…something. I cant hear her. I used to hear everything.
A bird rests on the tree outside my window. A bluejay? No, a sparrow. Yes, a sparrow is what its called. I like birds. She liked birds. We would feed bread crumbs to them together in the park. She would smile at me. It was a warm smile. A smile he saw many times. She..what was her name?
It is getting dark outside.
The man brushes off his derby hat and places it on his wrinkled head. He’s ready now. It took a long time, but he’s finally ready.
He hears her voice calling. He’s tired now. So tired. He remembers her being tired. So tired she just… lay there. He held her hand until she drifted off to sleep.
Sleep. I just need some sleep. He closes his eyes and sees her. She smiles that warm smile. She invites him for a walk in the park. He gets out of his chair and goes to meet her.
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[...] last few weeks. Most of it was just ranting and whatnot but one of my poems, A Walk In ...