It takes a shuffling-while to reach the seat. She backs cautiously up and holds the arm to lower herself. The young man she nearly lands on, slides along without a word. They both stare out to sea. Behind them the world hurtles along on a skateboard, a scooter, a bike - and legs like she used to have. Screaming teens and barking dogs, lovers’ strolls and family swarms. Everything is behind them. There is no sand, the tourist tideline spills into the cafes and up the chine.
She can’t remember the questions the girls have told her she can’t ask. She chooses to forget. But it’s time now.
Where are you from? she says.
The man turns and looks at her. He takes in her silver hair and shrunken frame. And her eyes – their unusual brightness.
The name of his home, the first thing he’s said all day, flies out to sea.
By the time the sand appears, he’s told her about his studies, how he misses his family, and his dreams for the future. The beach fills up with life, and he laughs about how much she’d like his grandma, how they are similar. This would make her so happy. He puts his hand on his heart as he leaves.
In the café behind them, three lost souls spot their chance and rise to make their way to the bench. The bench where the listening lady sits. They will all get their turn, eventually.
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