Creative Non-Fiction Short Stories. :) Travel, Oldsters, Love, and Compassion.
In the lobby, I spot him first. His gray hair is nearly tended. He wears a green tweed sport coat and a tie with small printed horses. I notice his contrasting pocket square. It might be nice to have a symphony date who wears a pocket square. When he passes I smile at him. He seems like someone I might meet one day–in my nursing home, when I may finally be prepared to settle down.
His wife wears a peach scarf and thick glasses. She moves by him and reaches for his elbow, which is tucked closely to his side. She stops herself. Later she tries again as a sort of reflexive habit, but she stops herself again, not quite daring to touch his sleeve.
I notice as we wait that I may have misjudged the duration of their relationship. Neither of them wears a ring. They move close and then apart. They seem enthralled by what the other says. I start to think this is early flirting. They are part of a tour group that takes up two long rows in the concert hall. Their cluster is uniformly happy and free. Perhaps this is what it is to be free from work, to take a vacation–going to the symphony in a slow-moving herd, packing one nice outfit in your suitcase. The two sit side-by-side as everyone shuffles to their seats. Though I thought they were fixed, I begin to hope the couple has just met. And, in any case I wish them a lovely beginning.