Page 26, Line 26 by Scott Moyes
Inspired by Page 26, line 26 from ‘The Promised Land’ by Barak Obama.
Fresh Air
He had a grey-flecked Afro, scraggly facial hair, and thick wire-rimmed glasses. When he shuffled down the carriage, it was in his own time. And when he nudged his walking stick towards the empty seat, he spoke with a polite growl.
“May I?” he asked.
And without removing my headphones, I nodded.
Sitting down did not come naturally to him. I budged over as he collapsed into the space beside me. He sighed with the utmost relief, as though sipping the first pina colada of the holiday.
“Thank you,” he breathed. And even though you’re not supposed to speak on the train, I had to ask.
“You’re a bit young to be going into town by yourself, aren’t you?”
He chuckled heartily, of course. But even that made him clutch his chest.
“I’ve been kicked out of the house”, he chortled. “A bit of fresh air would do me good, apparently.”
“Fresh air, around here?”, I laughed as the train rattled and rumbled towards the big smoke.
And now he wore a knowing smile.
“That…” he said in a hushed voice as he leant over, “…is precisely what I thought.”
He craned forward, slipped off his coat and folded it neatly onto his lap.
“She isn’t always right, of course,” he said softly. “But she’s never been wrong yet.”
“I bet she takes good care of you,” I offered.
And with that he gave me an appreciative pat on a shoulder. The grin that followed warmed my entire day.
“Her and everyone else, my friend.”
Scott Moyes