I stood a few feet behind the occupied bench, enjoying the new morning after a glorious yellow sunrise. I could hear the sea breeze rustling the palm trees, the barking sea lions, and the cawing seagulls. The soft sand was cool and damp beneath my bare feet, since the sun hadn’t yet scorched the morning dew from beneath the tree’s fronds.
The middle-aged couple seated in front of me had been firmly settled long before I arrived. They had barely moved at all, aside from the times she had brushed the hair from her eyes and tried to put it behind her ears. The wind teased the strands back out in short order and playfully threw them back in the woman’s face.
Though I wasn’t really paying attention to them, I could see she was a handsome woman with a lovely smile. She was quite contented – just looking at the ocean. I was almost directly behind him, so I couldn’t see his face, yet I noticed that he was sitting with a very erect, almost militaristic posture.
The woman sighed deeply and laid her head on his tweed-encased shoulder. He jumped at the touch but then he softened and wrapped his arm around her. He seemed a bit younger than she, but not remarkably so, and rather handsome as well. He brushed his lips over her hair and kissed her forehead tenderly.
I went back to watching the waves crash onto the sand so as not to intrude on the intimate moment. We were all motionless for so long that I was nearly hypnotized by the scene.
Suddenly, someone coughed.
The couple on the bench sprang apart so quickly it looked as if he might fall off the bench for a moment. She moved to help him right himself but he didn’t see her reaching hand because he was staring over her shoulder, a look of horror on his face. She slowly turned around and I followed their gaze.
Another woman looked back at them, a mix hurt and anger oozing out of her. She was far too thin, a big, red coat wrapped tightly against the gentle, cool breeze. She trembled and brought a tissue up to her mouth to cough again. The cough was phlegmy and so strong it wracked her small frame. She finally took a shuddering breath and glared at the two of them in contempt.
The man guiltily stood up and started to walk over to her. The woman on the bench caught his hand and clasped it firmly. He looked down at her hand, then into her eyes.
They gazed at each other for a long moment.
Finally, he smiled at her weakly. Then he pulled his hand from her grasp, walked to the woman who was still glaring at him, and led her away. As they walked toward the parking lot, the woman shot a look of triumph over her shoulder.
That was too much for the woman on the bench to bear. She sank to her knees and bent her face nearly to the sand before she started sobbing.
I looked to see if the man had noticed, but the couple was now deep in conversation, never looking back at her again. They got into a small silver car and drove away, leaving her to grieve by herself.
I stood there awkwardly, wondering what I should do, if anything. I don't know her, or the context or anything really, aside from what I had seen this morning.
Eventually, the woman's pain was too much. My throat began to burn with tears. I couldn't stand to listen anymore. I walked over the hot sand back to my apartment.
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