Old man

July 12, 2013

The only open seat at the coffee shop was across from a grey-haired man in a brown suit. He nodded when she gestured at the chair.

What’s your name? she asked.

Old Man, he said. It happens.

She wondered whether he meant old in general or too old for her. It was so hard to read a person’s age anymore.

I’m pretty wrapped up in my work, he said, though the table in front of him was empty. He placed one hand over the other as if to close the conversation.

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