I sit on the bench and, shivering, wrap my shawl tightly around my shoulders. It is a fall morning, cold and crisp like a chilled apple, and every breath plunges into my lungs like icy water into a swimmer’s mouth. But the colors are lovely; the tree line across the barren field is beginning to show splashes of crimson and gold amid the dark greens and browns. The sky is a solid azure, the color a sky should be, the color it rarely is.
I am waiting… for nothing. I sit here with no purpose. I don’t watch people as they jog by with huffing breath, and I don’t expect anyone to join me on my hard bench. I don’t enjoy the weather or the scenery. I merely sit. I am here to be alone, and that is all.
It has been a long time since I found company. I have been lonely, surrounded by friends and family, screaming silently in an earless crowd. But now, as a flock of geese rushes above my head, honking and beating the air with powerful wings, I find my company. Alone. I take a deep, cold breath and slowly close my eyes.
