Beach chairs on cement with no ocean in sight. Neighbors discussing all things important while enjoying a refreshing beverage. Crows watch from a distance, ignoring all talk of politics. Casual glances from passing cars with maybe an odd wave here and there, but who was that?
That evening, just prior to sunset, the driveway sitters have long since gone, the crows lost interest, having seen no sign of food, but the words from the day’s conversations still hover over the driveway. There are fragments of exaggerations, bits of adventure stories, some restaurant reviews, and some questionable directions to who knows where.
As the breeze picks up these lingering words and sentences will dissipate. Ideas and random thoughts will drift across the neighborhood, some landing on shrubs, maybe others bouncing off of chimneys, but all will eventually be gone. There will be no trace that the sitters ever solved border disputes, or created a cure for burnt pizza crust.
It will simply have been a time
that came and went, noticed only by the crows and they're not saying much.
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