My Neighbor

 

He is sitting on a lawn chair in his driveway with his eyes closed.  He is enjoying the warmth of the sun.  I can see him from my office window.  He looks content, peaceful.  It is a rare occasion to see his wife outside.  Maybe once a year she comes out to check for her shadow, then goes back in.

They are good neighbors, quiet and friendly.  They maintain their house and yard.  He is described as a car guy.  I expect, in his youth, he could be seen with the hood up, climbing under and around his prize possession, tinkering with wires and hoses and things requiring adjustment.  Today, however, technology has taken his hobby away, leaving behind computer chips that not even a metric wrench can fix.

Alone with his memories and a few old photographs hung on the garage walls, he relives those old times and great cars and when you talk to him about it his whole dashboard lights up.