Creative Non-Fiction Short Stories. :) Travel, Oldsters, Love, and Compassion.
A slow-moving service cart transporting two elderly men in polo shirts crosses Terminal A. The driver is surely their contemporary. They all try to sit up, gazing out from under the bills of hats and over the brims of bifocals. “Excuse me,” the driver says as loud as he can to a crowd of people boarding for Toronto. His voice is raspy, and barely at the level of normal conversation, “Excuse me.” He’s so polite, not using the very-tempting horn that rests under his fingers. Finally, a man directly in front of the wheels realizes the cart is trying to pass. He steps out of the way. The cart inches forward, “Excuse me.” Then the man who just moved reaches over and taps the person in front of him. Like a low-speed game of telephone, people step away, the cart edges up, and then the person who just moved taps their neighbor. No one waiting to board seems capable of alerting a neighbor and moving at the same time, it is only move, then tap, move, then tap, until finally the cart clears the vicinity. The driver nods, “Thank you,” without a drop of impatience and rolls on this glacial, courteous pace.