Old Chair, New Heartbreak

TBT to that time in late December when we drove past this scene: a lovely chair strangely parked in a gas station bay. We pulled over around the corner. I grabbed my phone and walked over.

As I move around taking photos, I hear a voice in the background. He says, you like the chair? I respond, breezily, I really do, but I’m just there to take its photo. I realize he’s talking to me from inside the passenger seat in the next stall. The door is open, and they’re watching my spontaneous, weird photo shoot.

He says, it’s antique, you should take it; I’ll help you put it in your car. I’m nearly done at this point, so I stand and say, it can’t come with me, but I would put it in his car for him.

With that, he gets out, stands up, bids his friend goodbye, and tells me, I don’t have a car, I’m homeless. Silence filled the air as I watched him walk off into the cold night. His friend drove away soon after. The chair, no longer the focus of my attention, remained stoic and alone as I shuffled off heavy-hearted.