Friday, March 20, 2009
Talking In The Park
"Talking In The Park"
by Jake Kilroy
"You know, today's the first day of spring, Henry, and you haven't said anything about the weather," Shelley said.
Henry laughed mildly. "Yes, I know. I just suppose I'm taking longer this year. The park seems greener than usual, the river more blue and the bridge more of a landmark than part of a transit system. I just see things better now. I'll be smelling the roses more often this season, I imagine."
"Are you dying, Henry? Do you have cancer? Most people don't use their five senses until one of them are taken away or their heart begins to fail."
They kept walking.
"No, no, no. My heart is as steady and sturdy as it is for any man in his late 50s and your legs are as slender as that of a 30-year-old career gal."
Shelley laughed, "Oh yeah? And a career gal, eh? Wow, you miss the '70s, it seems."
"Well, when you drive fast for a decade, you wonder what it feels like in your twilight. Maybe I do miss something. I'm not missing anything though, you know?" Henry said as he leaned on the rail, looking at a man in a kayak. "When is the dinner party on Saturday?"
"When the sun goes down."
"That's not very specific time."
"I'm not a specific person."
"Too true. Ah, Shelley, these conversations in the park, these long walks and longer talks, they never go anywhere, do they?"
"No, but they mean everything."