Creative Non-Fiction Short Stories. :) Travel, Oldsters, Love, and Compassion.
He can whistle like a dog’s squeaking chew toy. A few of the people sitting in the park look up and expect to see a dog. Yet, it is the middle-aged man in the red jacket and the hiking boots. His lady friend walks next to him, a bit embarrassed, her head turned toward him but pointing down. She still smiles. She whispers in his direction and he whistles. He changes to a tune that seems familiar, and listeners are squinting to place it. No longer like the random gnawing of a dog with a toy, a song squeaks out like a march or an anthem. She sighs and smiles into his insistence, beginning to blush as they pass tourists on benches, who are studying the couple instead of their maps. He carries on and beams over her. The song keeps tempo with each step she takes, but is off-tempo from his own pace. This is another talent in my estimation–the off-tempo walking, the boldness of the song he whistles, and the way he delights in keeping her close.