There is a young couple that I pass daily as I drive my 10 minute commute to work. They walk, shoulders touching, lost in what I imagine to be a meaningful discussion about current events as they make their way to the Metro stop in Ballston. She wears a navy peacoat, cable knit hat and orange mittens. He is taller and dresses in equally casual clothes, messenger bag slung across his torso. They are practical, minimalists, and kind; they believe in protecting the disenfranchised, the vulnerable, the poor. I like them. They seem like friends I would have kept twenty years ago.
I look for them everyday. When I leave on time, I pass them near the Methodist church, but more often than not, I am running late,and I catch up to them as they cross the interstate overpass, a few blocks from the subway station.
The other day, she was by herself. Walking alone. This unsettled me. Life happens, I get it, but she is meant for him and he loves her. The universe depends on constants, otherwise chaos ensues. Fortunately, the next day, he was back by her side. All was good. They briskly strode past my car as I sat at a red light; the warmth of their body language reassured me that all was right in the world.
Take a listen: