Kites

Lorcan drove pensively through the Phoenix Park.  The weather was his favourite kind, not too hot, blue skies and a gentle breeze.  His dog, Betty, yelped enthusiastically in the back of his car.  She wanted a walk and Lorcan felt inclined to agree.

A few minutes later he heard some mesmerizing chill-out music coming from behind the trees. Betty, understanding him, followed the music as Lorcan followed her.  There was a kite festival in a huge field behind the trees.  Lorcan loved the way he could walk into the most random of events in Dublin.  He was an impulsive person and let his instincts lead him into unusual situations.  Sometimes for the good and sometimes not but he seldom regretted 'living in the moment.'

He sat on the warm grass with Betty leaning against him in the ungainly way that dogs do.  The music was hypnotic and there was enough warmth in the day to make him feel contented with life.  A group of professional kiters were flying ten kites in unison.  The kites moved perfectly together, turning and swaying in the soft wind.

He looked around him.  Couples and families sat in groups on the field.  Young children were getting their faces painted in the distance. His contentment evaporated. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a feeling of overwhelming grief covered him like a rain-sodden bedsheet.  He was alone.  No-one to share this moment with.  How many wonderful moments like this had he witnessed?   Longing for a partner almost broke his heart.  Did these moments really matter if he had no-one else to discuss or remember them with?  How he longed for a man to share these times with him.

With that, he stood up, rubbed the grass from his jeans and headed back to his car.