Saying goodbye

It was cold and still dark when I was waiting outside for the taxi to take me to the airport, but the geese didn't mind and came to say goodbye to me. The most assertive one inquired about the content of my luggage. The others stood quietly in the background with their hands in their pockets, shyli picking at my bags and at the grass between the stones on the sidewalk. Even when we ran out of conversation they stuck around. The streetlights blinked a few times. The neighbour's dog barked behind the mail slot. The clouds hung low above the street. I felt happy. Sometimes, when you say goodbye to people, they do not appropriately acknowledge the gravity of the leave-taking, but how moving and considerate everyone had been this time, I thought to myself later on the aeroplane, as the clouds swallowed up the earth beneath.

© 2009–2023, Martijn Wallage