Click: true moments collected over the years, stories too short for the stage.
Late afternoon. From the empty Grayhound bus station I walk through an empty food court. Well – almost empty. A middle-aged Amish couple sits eating homemade sandwiches at a plastic table, in plastic chairs.
He’s reading a book.
She is staring into the distance, wearing a heavy dress, a bonnet as blinders and – she probably doesn’t want to be rescued.
She is probably perfectly content eating thick homemade bread on this Grayhound bus layover, thinking of her sister in Pennsylvania. Maybe her ambitions never stretched farther than her front yard. But I stand there for a long time. Aching to take her hand, to push back her bonnet and give her all the opportunities she’s missed.
Standing in her scrubbed living room, staring out the window.