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.
I've often thought the same thing!
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