Morning

It’s early. Most folks are still in bed after a late night. A few hardy souls are out in the sunshine and brisk air.

They walk slower than those who arrive at the park later.  The joggers barely lift their feet off the ground. It’s as if they are going through the motions.

This morning promenade has a higher purpose. A thin man walks with his hands in his pockets.  He hunches over into the wind. As he takes each step he ponders his place in the world. The middle aged woman inhales the crisp cold air. She swings her arms as she moves along the path. She sits on a bench and gazes at the ripples on the water.

Eventually the man’s hands come out of his pockets and his chin rises up. The woman stands and smiles as she watches three ducks frolic in the water.

Ripples pass across the flag before it snaps to in a gust of wind.

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