The old man sits at his usual table in the park.
Blue cards are face down, arranged in rows. He turns over two: penguin and wagon.
“No match,” he says to the empty seat across from him. “Your turn.”
He turns over two more cards, both penguins.
“Good job, son.”
Rita Riebel Mitchell writes in the Pinelands of South Jersey. Her work appears in Flash Fiction Magazine, Versification, 101 Words, and others.
Read more at RRMitchell.com.
So poignant!
Thank you.
A meloncholy snapshot of loneliness.
Yes… when I re-read it I still feel sad for him.