`By David Henson

Hurrying down a rush-choked sidewalk, the marriage is shocked by a smooth-skinned, dark-haired version of itself crossing the street. The marriage calls out, but the urban din gulps its voice. As the marriage jaywalks closer, a bike messenger runs it down. Cartoon stars orbiting its head, the marriage struggles to its feet just as its young version boards the number 42. The marriage waves its arms and shouts Come back as the bus lurches ahead. Its eyebrows and chin as far apart as they can get, the marriage brushes itself off and limps back to the throng. A few minutes later, the young marriage jogs back to the stop. Its hand shielding its eyes, it peers at the swarm of pedestrians, and, skipping out of the way of a bicycle, spots and approaches its wrinkled, gray-haired version sitting on a bench, rubbing its shoulder. When it sees its younger self, the older marriage smiles I have so much to tell you, it says. The young marriage frowns, turns, and walks away. 

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David Henson and his wife reside in Illinois. His work has been nominated for Pushcart Prizes, Best Small Fictions, Best of the Net, and has appeared in various publications including Bright Flash Literary Review, Best Microfictions 2025, Ghost Parachute, Moonpark Review, Maudlin House, and Literally Stories,  His website is http://writings217.wordpress.com. His X handle is @annalou8.