the beautiful silence

an old man, well,
much older
than you are,
backs his car
into yours,
banging bumpers
in the mall parking
lot. you get
out and study
the damage
as he gets out,
shaking his head.
his wife climbs
out as well
and begins to curse
him. all three of us
stand there,
hands in our coats,
in the cold and wind,
staring
at our bumpers,
examining them
for any dents
or bruises, scrapes.
but there aren't
any, much to
everyone's relief.
so you nod and
wave and say it's fine,
and as they climb
back into their
car, you hear her
go after him with
a barrage of curses,
and i told you so's,
her angry lips are
still moving
as you look into
the rearview mirror,
pulling away,
alone,
you sigh
and inhale
the beautiful
silence of
your world.