Sunday Creative: Timeworn

She stepped out of the silent gloom of the train station into the heartbeat of the city, a frenetic pace timed by pinstriped men and sensible heeled women racing against the countdown of the stop lights, a rhythm accompanied by the low grumble that breathed off of the homeless tucked in corners and edges.  A skyline of towering buildings lumbered over her, rendering her dizzy.  Her legs hurt, her heart raced; she felt overwhelmed and stunned.

Her granddaughter reappeared, demanding that she keep up, stay with her, don't get lost.  'I am lost', she thought.  'I belong in the country, why have I come here?'  She gripped the strap on her purse, dry swallowed and took a lurch forward, the buildings weighing her down, bringing her tiny frame closer to the earth.  Car horns, hands on her arms pulling her back.  "Not yet!  I'll help you!"  Impatient, ready to prove that she had conquered the rhythm, that it had not defeated her, her granddaughter glared at the masses around her little grandmother, thinking 'she is eighty, what have I done, inviting her here?  How do I keep her safe?'

The granddaughter glanced around for their third party member, finding him with camera up to eye, proclaiming the magnificence of the architecture while reaching out one hand to find his wife.  A habitual act, one that mimed taking care of while belying his own uncertainty and fear.  In one smooth motion, they were linked.  Sixty years of births, deaths, accidents, poverty, loss, jobs, moves led to this crossing of a busy street in Boston.  Those towering buildings sat back, the car horns grew muted, the business people arced their paths to flow around the elderly couple, faces growing gentler, hands reaching out to hold doors.

She felt her heart return to the rhythm of the wind in the trees in their backyard, the predictable flow of raucous morning bird calls into the silent evening chase of fireflies.  Two lifelines worn into matching patterns, the steady pulse of safety and trust.  They smiled at each other, and at their granddaughter, flitting about trying to prove her competence, and stepped into Boston.

Happy Anniversary.