An Old Man, Waiting on Ghosts…

There’s this old man, that comes to the park, every single afternoon, at two, or was it three, maybe, four?  That just, parks his butt on that, second bench, where he sat, and waited…

And, people are, passing through him, not seeing him there (not that we’d ever seen someone SAT down on him or anything like that!).  But, nobody’s, noticing him, people all around him, are just, busying by.

An old man, waiting on ghosts, is what we, kids playing in the park nicknamed me, we’d, whispered amongst ourselves, and, we would, pick at him, but he didn’t seem bothered but us, and so, the fun stopped, and, we all, started, ignoring him, just like the world that’s, passing him by.

He was, an old man, waiting on ghosts, the ghosts of the loves he’d once let slip through his fingers, he had a wife, two kids who looked up to him like he’s the king of their worlds once, but, he was too busy at work, didn’t make the time for them.

what he looked like…on the benches in the park, waiting on ghosts…photo from online

They (the kids grew up), and, he’d, lost his, functionality after his kids no longer, needed him, they could now make the money to live off of, and, without the “title” of getting home the pay, his existence in his family became, obsolete!

And so, he’d come to sit on that park bench, like a ghost, every single afternoon, waiting on all those ghosts he’d, neglected, and, we’d passed by him several times when we horse played in the tag, and, one of the children whom we ran with, ran toward him and touched him, said, “you’re IT!”

That, was how he’d, turned into that ghost to all of us when we’d played in the park……….