Category Archives: loneliness

    Déjà Vu

She was out of place at the convenience store Subway.  I saw her sit down at a tall bar stool table inside.

She wasn’t eating, but had a small Styrofoam cup of coffee that she wasn’t drinking.

Her silver blue hair was perfect, in every way, and she was wearing her Sunday best dress complete with a little pearl necklace and old fashioned black, block heel dress shoes.

She was tall and slender, and her glasses seemed to be part of her face, like they’d been there for years. Continue reading     Déjà Vu

Advertisement

Smiling Eyes

It was a short run into the grocery store before work for a few apples and coffee creamer, but the only checkout line was long, too long.

The lady at the front of the line was an elderly lady and the bagger said something I couldn’t understand, then walked out with her to put her groceries in her car.  The next person checked out and was on the way out when the bagger returned.

The man bagging was probably 65 years old and had a round face with sharp features and a big pleasant smile.  The lady in front of me checked out ten or twelve items and the man’s face seemed locked into a smile.  He’d grab a couple of items, glance at the checker and customer, as if searching for something in their faces, and then bag the next items.

After the lady paid, the man handed her grocery bags to her and said something, but again, I didn’t understand him.  She smiled, spoke back to him and he laughed out loud beaming a huge smile.

I wasn’t paying attention when the checker checked me out.  I swiped my card, spoke to the checker and turned to grab the plastic sack from the bagger.  I caught a glimpse of his hearing aids just as he said in garbled words like someone severely deaf….at least I think he said, “I love eat apples!  And coffee!”  Continue reading Smiling Eyes

To Who Knows Where

A few weeks back I was leaning on the rail of a cruise ship sailing the inside straits of Alaska.  Miles away were large, looming mountains on the Alaska coast.

It wasn’t the land that was intriguing though, it was the hundreds of birds on both sides of the ship. They were a species of seagull and they were everywhere!  Some sat on the water riding out the waves.

Most, however, flew about a foot above the water and didn’t miss a flap of the wing.  Occasionally, one would scoop down to pick up some tasty morsel of food flying at break neck speed.

To Who Knows Where

There were so many over the water, yet it seemed they flew with organization, almost marching band style.  They were like a symphony of different instruments playing different notes that make no sense alone, but all together play beautiful music.  The birds darted and dodged, skillfully avoiding mid-air collisions, moving in groups in their beautiful, living maze of feathered music. Continue reading To Who Knows Where

Help Wanted

The man sat on the bench in front of the Wal-Mart checkout lanes.  I thought he was waiting on someone, but he wasn’t.  He was just sitting and watching for a minute.

He was obviously a working man, about 65ish, and had a day-old shave.  He was a bit chubby, but not flat out fat.  He had draped a couple of plastic bags of items he just bought over his blue jeans.  He wore work cowboy boots and a free blood donation T-shirt.

His face was confident, like he knew he could pretty much handle anything that happened on the outside.  His eyes, however, looked like his heart had been, or maybe still was, wounded.  His eyes looked like muddy, shallow puddles instead of a deep, free flowing fresh water wells.

He got up and started for the exit limping with a distinct, weathered limp. Who knows why, but I suspect his limp was from a rugged injury such as a car accident, oilfield work injury, or getting his leg pinned against a chute while dealing with cows. Continue reading Help Wanted