He sat on the park bench, knees covered with his long coat, munching from a bag of stale popcorn. The pigeons didn’t mind the company. As a couple walked by, hand-in-hand, he stared at them, envied their closeness. It had been years since she’d let him get that close, let alone touch her. Still, after 30 years of marriage, what was he to do about it, start over? Not that he had any prospects, just the thought of all the effort, finding his own place, arranging the utilities and such. Moving. There’s a no-win job. Maybe he could find a furnished place with utilities included. He wondered if the apartment buildings around the park had any vacancies. It might be nice. It could be. The pigeons would appreciate him at least.