The Old Man

The old man sat on a park bench just watching the people pass by. He did it day after day alone in everyone's eyes. He would smile occasionally but no one ever knew why. Everyone who saw him wondered why he sat so still and just looked out at everyone who passed him there. The old man sat in repose from dawn until dusk fell. He sat there in the summer sun and as winter's bleakness fell. He looked for some face he might remember from his past so they could reminisce for a while. Sadly, the years slipped away. Everyone spoke about him, but no one ventured to talk. Then one day the old man wasn't on the park bench and he was nowhere to be seen. Now a different question was asked. Day after day, the bench was empty. Where had the old man gone? Had he simply passed away? The questions remained unanswered because no one ever stopped to enquire of his name. I would like to think that in the dying hours on the park bench one day that he had found what he was waiting for and then happily he faded away. 12 July 2012