hunched
Wednesday, July 3, 2013There he was. Alone. In that horrible, screechy shopping centre food hall. Surrounded by plugged.in.kids, hysterical parents and screaming babies.
Old and grey and slow, hunched on his chair. A paper cup full of weak tea. Gently scooping plastic.cream onto a sad pair of wrapped.in.plastic scones, with a small plastic spoon.
I wanted to whisk him away. Take him home, to my toasty kitchen. Make him a cup of steaming tea, a batch of fresh scones. Offer some real cream. And talk to him: about his life, about where he’d been, who he was, who he is.
But of course, I couldn’t. So I just dragged hurting heart, squeezed My Lovely One’s hand a little tighter and hurried past.
Tags: connection, holding hands, loneliness, My Lovely One