He stands among the gnarled windfall on a cold day at Seward Park. His dark blue blazer and gold buttons, the way he shivers, wipes the dry corners of his mouth with thumb and forefinger and tucks his hands beneath the biceps of his arms.
He has come, he has walked the lake; he has remained quiet the whole way around.
He remembered not to smile. He remembered to look at her face. Then it was finally over and he is released.
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