The old man and his memoriesThe Old man and his memoriesAn old man sits on a park bench, the warm afternoon sun shining on his time worn face, creating small shadow plays between his wrinkles. As a slight breeze scuttles across his face he thinks about a time shrouded in the past. A time in which Automobiles were a luxury, a time where men wore top hats and women wore corsets, a time where the world was in great conflict, a time where men were needed in war, and women in factories, a time, long ago. As he sits there, with his mind in another time, in another place, the doves land beside him, as if he were a lifeless statue, only to be worn down by weather, and fathe