the old man at the closed bus stop and the loneliness we all share
Why security may not lie in property, but in connection
“Are you waiting for the bus?”, I asked the old man at the bus station.
“Yes, I am.”, he answers.
“It says the bus stop is closed”, I say, pointing above his head, thinking that he might have not noticed it.
“Oh, that’s old, don’t mind that, the bus will stop. I know for sure, because I live at this house here.”, and he shows me a beautiful Victorian house behind me.
“It’s lovely. How long have you been living there?”, I asked, smiling.
That’s all it took.
He starts telling me about his long life in Fulham, his favorite neighborhood in London, this house he had bought and how much he had loved raising his kids in it.
From the way his eyes sparkled and how fast he was talking, I got a feeling that he hadn’t spoken with someone in a long time. I don’t interrupt him, and listen with intention.
Just before the bus arrived, his smile disappears, and he says, “But they will have to move me somewhere else soon. It’s not safe to be alone in here anymore.”
