Two elderly East Indian gentlemen are seated together, their turbaned heads almost touching as they bend over a globe of the world. They do not glance up as I slowly pass, so deep are they in conversation, pointing and tracing with their fingers.
I wish I was included in the conversation.
They have seen sights I will never see.
I admire the close knit community they share. Elderly friends on park benches or clustered round picnic tables at the park.
They must have stories to tell.
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I've often thought the same thing!
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