“Listen”By Megan Juarez

He lays his suit jacket over the right shoulder, using the sleeve to wipe the racing beads of sweat behind his neck. The buttons of his white collared shirt were relieved of their responsibilities and the sleeves rolled to comfort. He continues walking until it is time to go back.

From the outside, the buildings rise above the trees, making one forget they are there. They tower over the city standing in the hard concrete. Once inside, however, the man is not overwhelmed with the grayness of the outside. He adjusts to the new palate of green before him. The leaves speak to him as they drop above his head, linger around his shoulders and slide underneath his feet. The benches are covered with blurred faces, where they are laughing and eating with one another until they, too, have to return. His right shoulder begins to damp, so he switches his jacket to the other side. Deeper in the park becomes emptier and the man decides to sit. He takes notice of the woman next to him. She has deep wrinkles, filled with wisdom and experience, he thinks to himself. The man begins to swipe the ring on his left hand on and off. It gets harder during the warmer season when his fingers swell. Come wintertime, the ring will once again slide off and on easily.

“Are you listening?” the old woman asks the man. He glances around them before realizing she expected him to supply an

answer.“To what, may I ask?” “Just listen,” she says. Her eyes close while her fingers interlace on her lap. The man scans what is in sight, looking to find an image to match a sound.

Nothing. His facial muscles start to tighten. He tries to question the old woman’s

intentions without questioning her integrity. As he forms the words in his throat she intentionally pushes them back down with a whisper. Her statuesque pose is never broken.

“It’s nothing,” she says, “That’s exactly what we need to hear.” The man once again looked around. He looked down at his brown leather

shoes and over his head at a blue cloudless sky. Yes, he thought, it’s nothing. They sat and listened to the silence. Silence was all he needed. Not an answer,

or a reason or an explanation, but silence. That was it. When it was time to leave, to adjust his eyes back to the grayness, the man

stood up with his jacket in hand. “Everything will be fine as long as you just listen,” the old woman said.“Thank you,” the man said with a slight smile. It was a smile that did not need

the support of his teeth or the rosiness of his cheeks. It was a smile that reflected his genuine appreciation with its lack of exaggeration. He threw the jacket over his right shoulder and continued walking.

The wind kicked up and the beads of sweat left his neck alone, and he listened to the silence.