In the morbid space of hopelessness, their eyes met again as they sat across each other in separate stone slabs.
“My release date is coming up next week..any update on reducing your term?”, said the man with deep-set eyes, lowering his voice to almost a whisper.
“No luck…my term has been extended to three more months for some reason..”, replied the other man gruffly, as his hand abstractedly brushed his majestic mustache over and over.
“Oh! At least, make sure you take your daily walks, while you are on parole…that will keep you sane..and..uh..maybe I will get to meet you while you serve your next sentence..?”, the wise-eyed man left his question hanging.
“No, next year, we serve at Alabama – my daughter’s place, but the year after that, our term will be here at my son’s place again…”, replied the seventy year-old mustached father, as he slowly got up to bid his fellow mate goodbye, in the neighborhood park at Texas.