Sitting at the airport in a Pret. There is a couple sitting near me, they must be in their late 50s, early 60s. They’re well travelled. Weathered skin; comfortable clothes; simple, neat, unfussy. Well-worn hat hanging on luggage handle. They both have salads. She has the crayfish and avocado, he the superfood. They’re sitting opposite each other and since I’ve been watching not a word has passed between them. It’s not an uncomfortable, sad or stale silence. They’re just there, peacefully eating their salads, looking around. Every now and then she puts some avocado into his salad box and he puts some lentils and quinoa into hers. They look up, into each other’s eyes and smile lightly, briefly, so fleetingly you could miss it. But the love that passes between them in that moment completely consumes me. A connection so tender. And beautiful. And deep. And sweet. They truly see each other. It lasts only a moment but it feels like I have watched a most exquisitely perfect short film.
Lost in beautifull translation.