The Kiss
He was really old, and he moved as if in slow motion to the park bench next to mine, close enough to nod a greeting to me when he planted his tired body down. Our respective benches faced one of the more popular walking trails on the edge of Central Park. The street noise was loud and full of the energy of the City. It was a bright and warm day in early May in 1978. The sky was crystalline and the air smelled new and sweet. The trees were bursting with the growth of new leaves and everything...