Thursday, November 1, 2012

The other hand clapping

We met in the library lobby outside the Friends store. “Bless you,” he said, “for all of your hair. It’s beautiful. It shows you are full of spirit.”

He told me his name. Asked me mine. Said he still plays the drums. He’s sixty-seven. Gray stubble on his face. Wearing second-hand clothes.

“Bless you,” he said again, clasping my hand and looking into my eyes, “for still being here with us, alive in the world. I’m so glad we met.”

“Me, too,” I said.

“We’ll meet again, I’m sure. Yes... this is no accident.”

He left the library. I entered the store.


Jonathan Chant said...

A beautiful vignette. I love the honesty in your writing, the way you conjure up a scene in straight words.
More please, William.

William Michaelian said...

This seemed such a piece of good fortune, Jonathan, I just had to pass it on. Thanks for your kind reception and encouraging words.

Jan said...

Books needing a home must look forward to your visits, William.

I love your words above! I could see that man as if it were my hand that he took hold of~~~

William Michaelian said...

Thank you, Jan. It was an amazing, wonderful moment.

The interesting thing is when those books wink at me in the store....

Unlocked said...

How poignant. A soft, yet graphic tale. I don't think there is any meeting that is accidental. I believe wholeheartedly that we do not pay attention, and therefore meetings seem random. I am trying to focus :)

William Michaelian said...

Thank you. And certainly even if or when they are random (a stop light en route can make all the difference), paying attention is what matters.

Brad C. Thome said...

how you paint a picture my friend...!

all the best!


William Michaelian said...

And my best to you Brad. Thank you!