Window On A Bench
He closed the book, laid down his pipe and glasses, and lifted his eyes to the bench outside his window. On this early fall morning, with a bit of crispness in the air, the beach, and the bench were deserted. She was behind her time today. Every morning, for the past 6 months, she had sat on the bench, at the same time, with a drink in one hand, and a single rose in the other. She would sit, silently sipping her drink, casting the occasional glance at the flower. After 15 minutes, or so, she would look skyward, take a deep breath, and release a long, drawn out sigh. Her hand relaxed, and the rose would fall to the sand at her feet. His eyes would then follow her as she slowly wended her way down the beach, at water's edge. He watched until she was no longer visible, then he would return to his book, the image of her disappearing form still there, in his mind. But, today, the bench remained empty.
Window On A Bench
He closed the book, laid down his pipe and glasses, and lifted his eyes to the bench outside his window. On this early fall morning, with a bit of crispness in the air, the beach, and the bench were deserted. She was behind her time today. Every morning, for the past 6 months, she had sat on the bench, at the same time, with a drink in one hand, and a single rose in the other. She would sit, silently sipping her drink, casting the occasional glance at the flower. After 15 minutes, or so, she would look skyward, take a deep breath, and release a long, drawn out sigh. Her hand relaxed, and the rose would fall to the sand at her feet. His eyes would then follow her as she slowly wended her way down the beach, at water's edge. He watched until she was no longer visible, then he would return to his book, the image of her disappearing form still there, in his mind. But, today, the bench remained empty.