I look out my window and see a man and a woman walking down the street. It's a sunny day on the cusp of spring. The snow has melted and the gravel is soft and forgiving under their footsteps. He's got a full head of white hair and is wearing a grey sweater. It's warm enough for just a sweater if you don't mind the cold and have the sun at your back. She's just at his shoulder; a deep red coat and hat pulled down over her ears against the wind. His arm is resting on her shoulder as they walk down the road.
I see them pass by the stone gate to the Manor Inn, pass the Catholic church and head down a small hill. How sweet, companionship in later years. But that arm on my shoulder; I would have cut it off by now from the discomfiture it caused me with it's uneven and continuously bouncing weight.
Giggling in acknowledgment!
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