Walking the Goose, Part 37

There’s this middle-aged guy. Maybe my age. Or a little bit older. He’s at the park every day with an old man in a wheelchair.

The old man is pretty much comatose and probably lives in the old folks home across the street. The middle-aged guy is dressed like he’s going to the office: button-up shirt, tucked in to his slacks, loafers on his feet. But he’s not in the office. He’s at the park pushing the old guy’s wheelchair, hanging out at the tennis courts.

They sometimes stop at the end of the courts and park so that the old guy is facing the players, watching them play. The middle-aged guy then takes the old guys arms and moves them around, exercising them, I guess. It’s kinda amazing. It looks as if he is moving the old guy’s arms to mimic the movements of the tennis players. So he raises the old guy’s left arm up, then, as he drops it, he raises the old guy’s right arm up, then down. As if to serve.

I’m probably making this part up. It’s probably just my imagination. It must be. But it’d be a cool story if it were true.

October 16th

2.45 miles

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