I'd often stop by the plaza early Sunday mornings before heading to the hospital to visit Hal.
That was when I noticed the Grey Ones, those few souls who don't want to be in the crowds that come later. They just want to be around a few other people before they quietly head home.
I began to notice this group when Hal's life was winding down and I wasn't in the mood to do my errands with lots of life around me.
Mostly the Grey Ones were women, some speaking softly while examining the wares on the shelves.
"Make a note for later," I thought, "Don't speak to myself when out in public."
Good idea.
Now that I'm on my own and have many attributes of a Grey One, I speak aloud to myself in public but not enough to alert the staff that I may need a keeper.
Don't know when I stopped worrying about it.
I like those moments when a fellow-traveler is chatting to herself, comparing the price between the peas and corn, then she catches my glance and knows immediately that I'm a member of the club.
We smile at one another and walk on.
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