Conversations of a Solitary Walker
Walking toward the Hudson River, Sam Weber remarked on the weather and the grayness of it. Holding tight to Jack, his sturdy companion, he was able to fend off the pits and uneven curbs of the street.
Along the boardwalk two young mothers talked and secured the plastic wind shields on their baby carriages. A couple made out on a bench. Another, huddled in windbreakers, read the Times and sipped their coffee from blue and white cups with faux Greek letters. In the empty café, waiters stood around joking. Friends lined up at the rolling hot dog cart. Shouting boys tossed a ball. A mutt and a golden retriever strained their leashes to sniff one another while their owners took up a chat. Clustered seabirds caw-cawed. An argument sputtered out. A conversation ended. Others began.
Across the river, the Lackawana Ferry tower clock showed 11:47. “Come on, Jack. Lunch time,” Sam muttered to his cane. “The Special’s extra special today. Let’s get going.”