One Midnight Gone...

I’ve always spent a great deal of my summers sitting outside on my front porch. Around 2:00 every day I’d see this old man walking down the street reading. I was always so impressed with his talent of multi-tasking. He somehow managed to see where he was going without his eyes ever leaving his book. He wore these really big bulky glasses with thick black rims, which made me question whether or not looking up would have done him much good anyway. 

I watched him and always wondered where he was going. He walked with such purpose that kind of made me envy him. Each day I saw him, the books different. Though I never got close enough to catch a title, the covers constantly changed. It never occurred to me until now how fast of a reader he must have been. 

It’s weird now, to sit on the steps of my front porch and look out and not see him. I’ll be playing my guitar, or knitting, or reading, but will glance up expecting to see him. I’m hopeful that although my curiosity isn’t taken up by him anymore, someone else’s is.