SUNDAY AFTERNOON AT THE NEIGHBORHOOD CAFE

 

The elderly couple sitting near the window, here amongst the midday cacophony of voices climbing over voices, coffee cups clanging like broken bells, enjoys their meal in measured silence. You might not notice them at first, this small island of calm, cloud-gray and unassuming, their subtle movements reflected in the glass behind them. They nod, shrug their shoulders in bemused acknowledgement, passing small packets back and forth, as if they were coded messages. Do not mistake this for nothing. Do not presume they have said all there is to say in this lifetime. They have, it seems, moved beyond the boundaries of words, beyond the Yes and the No, with little need now to ask for what lies plainly here between them.