Virus--Old Men

On a cold November night, under a growling hidden moon, two old men sit on a balcony--on old plastic chairs. With short breathes they smoke long cigarettes and drink beer from cold brown bottles. 

They've been neighbours, but not for long. Since only the last few months when they discovered what they had in common was what they once had, and lost to long nights and cold beers. The wives they divorced and the grown children they hadn't spoken to in years.

With a virus in the land, the residence allowed seniors to socialize outside. A mystery virus that spared the old, that stole the memories of the young. 

Hard drops of rain bounce off the balcony railing and land at the feet of the men. Sometimes a wind gust blows water onto their laps but spares their cigarettes and never touches the bottles of beer.

Through the blackness and the rain they see into the park. Under a bright lamppost they see a young man sitting alone on a bench. His rust coloured cap pulled low, the collar of his coat pulled up high. Every night they see him, but have never spoken of what they believe. That he is a viral young. That he is lost. That he has no memory, only a sense of what was.

One old man takes a deep drag from his cigarette and draws down a large gulp of beer. He says to the other man: "My boy's name is Ralph. Named him after his grandfather. He'd be about forty now. Last I heard he joined the navy. Haven't seen him in years."

"Sure," the other old man replies."I got a son about the same age. Don't know what he does. My daughter, last I heard she lives on the coast. I think she teaches school. I couldn't make it for her wedding day."

The men drink more beer and watch the rain turn into wet snow.

"You think that young man sitting in the park wearing the cap is all alone?" One man asks. "He sits there night after night, and winter is coming."

"Probably got the virus. Doesn't remember nothing. He probably has got lots of people, just can't recall them. They'll probably come out with a cure soon. Wouldn't worry too much about it."

"Yeah, probably."

The two neighbours feel cold and get up from the old plastic chairs. They walk like old men to the warmth of their apartment and turn on the TV. They watch a forgotten movie from when they were young and fall asleep at opposite ends of a black couch...like a long limousine.