Not alone on the frigid day,
A grey haired couple walks ahead, down the pier.
Their breaths exhale as one into the frosty air.
Her purple scarf blows loose, like a flag.
He reaches for it, wraps it around her,
Covering her mouth,
She laughs and nudges his side.
They stop.
I walk slow.
He reaches into his wool coat,
And brings out a handful of corn.
He throws it in the air, the seagulls go mad,
She ducks but squeals in delight.
He beams.
This is their routine every day.
I decide I must invest time in another person.
Love is in the air or at least snow is. Supposedly the Ground Hog has declared an early spring. How many are ready for flowers poking up through the frozen tundra? Exaggerating just a bit. There’s no snow where I live at the moment, much to my dismay. Today’s short tale is brought to you by Rochelle Wisoff’s Friday Fictioneers Photo prompt. The pensive prompt is courtesy of Peter Abbey. Here’s hoping that you have some inspiring people in your life even if they are strangers. Best, Clare.
Clare Graith 