©2008 Liz Ong
Shoulder against shoulder, they sit on a worn wooden bench on Main Street. The side of her head tilts towards him and fits perfectly in the place where his shoulder meets his neck. I see this couple once a week, she in her wide-brimmed hat and a matching blouse, modest knee-length skirt, nylons and heels; he with his freshly-ironed black suit. He is a Chinese gentleman in his fifties, she a Caucasian woman with bright red lipstick and shining powder over the worn old skin. They shine with ageless joy, the joy of being together, hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder. I wonder how they met, how they came together in this place where Chinatown and downtown meet.
This time I approach. “You’re a beautiful couple,” I say shyly, smiling.
“Thank you," they giggle and I leave them, giggling myself.