A time in the park.

I sat there in the park on a bench.

My eyes were fixed on the clasped hands of an elderly couple. The veiny knot of fingers and palms held my mind in place firmly; the more I struggled against the bondage the more I found myself bound eternally.

They turned to me, purely out of happenstance and the old lady pointed out something above me in a tree to the old man. They both smiled.

I was overwhelmed by this enigma and I glared at their hands trying to figure out which finger belonged to who.

The man’s eyes fell on me and as I navigated the crinkles around the pools of wisdom I felt on the verge of tears.

He smiled.

I exploded, overwhelmed.