Snap shot from a Grey Day

A couple walk arm-in-arm through the park. They haven’t noticed the rain’s fall increasing. They walk along, talking and looking and laughing. They aren’t aware of the wind and the cold. They don’t notice the miserable expressions on the faces of the people walking past; people on their way to the bank; or to the supermarket; or the doctor’s; people returning home, or going to visit friends. None of it means anything. Nothing registers outside their bubble.

In the distance a car screeches to a halt, a dog might bark and children are running around with unfastened coats. But inside the park the couple take themselves further and further away, following paths here, and cutting across areas of sodden grass there. It is their day to do with as they wish. He is going to meet her parents for the first time over dinner tonight. But thoughts of awkward conversation and embarrassed silences are distant as they progress through the green and grey expanse of the park.

Reaching a spot where two main paths cross, they find a puddle blocking their progress. The man takes off an imaginary cloak and ceremoniously places it over the water. He then turns to the woman, bows, and beckons her across. Grinning, she curtseys and slowly takes his hand before pretending to push him into the water. Anticipating her playful attack, he grabs her arms and pins them behind her back before placing a delicate kiss on her forehead, one on her nose, and finally one on her expectant lips.


This story

There is a very good reason this isn’t a normal story: the kind with a beginning, which develops into the middle before revealing its conclusion towards the end.

We could sit here speculating about who said and did what, and to whom: the whys, the wherefores and the consequences. But I wouldn’t want to mislead.

This story hasn’t happened yet…