The Black Shoulder Bag

As I make my everyday commute back from work I am confronted by a red traffic light.

I turn to my right and notice a couple, I suppose over the age of 60, leisurely walking on the sidewalk next to the road that I am on.

One has a bag over her shoulder and the other an umbrella in his hand.

They are walking at a turtle’s pace.

Though they may not look the most content, they seem to be okay.

They are not in a rush like I am.

Nor are they stressed like I am.

Despite knowing that they have little time left of life, they walk in a manner that suggests the opposite;

They walk as though they carry all of eternity in that mini black shoulder bag.

And I am envious.

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