The Woman

I am walking down a street in a neighborhood, happy with the smells of early summer and the sounds of children playing, dogs barking, and birds chirping.  One of life’s many simple pleasures for the healthy and ambulatory.  Up ahead I see four people in conversation. There is a young man and woman of the same age attended by an elderly woman standing slightly behind and to the side of them.  They are facing a second man.  As I move closer I can tell the man and woman are having a disagreement with the other man.  Let’s suppose the young couple are the elderly woman’s grandson son and daughter-in-law, and let’s observe how they ignore her.

The conversation continues until the man not related to her asks the elderly woman for her opinion.  There is a pause, and then like a bicyclist maneuvering over a gravelly and treacherous path, her words come forth tentatively and with effort, as much an indicator of her age as are the crevices and age spots etched into the contours of her face and hands.

My mind immediately travels back in time to a smiling young woman with a sweet, girlish voice and smooth, rosy skin.  She too is with men, but she is the center of attention and attraction and never ignored, but maybe envied.  It’s a bubble of time, a moment sealed in amber, a lesson in the fleeting nature of youth; but my visit is short and my mind hurls me back to the present. She is bone thin and ancient.  Her skin sags under the weight of sorrow. There is no present for her; she lives in memories while she waits for that great debt collector time to collect its final payment.  

And I think NEVERMORE!

And I walk away in sadness.


Comments

  1. This piece of writing brings a curiosity in me to read more. It is very well written and the sense of depiction is marvelous . Great work!

    ReplyDelete

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