But what drew my thoughts to them was their undisturbed silence. It seemed to me that a melancholy emptiness permeated their little corner.
As the exchange between Michael and me fluctuated from laughs to whispers， confessions to assessments， this couple's poignant stillness called to me. How sad， I thought， not to have any thing left to say. Wasn't there any page that they hadn't yet turned in each other's stories？ What if that happened to us？
Michael and I paid our small tab and got up to leave the restaurant. As we walked by the corner where the old couple sat， I accidentally dropped my wallet. Bending over to pick it up， I noticed that under the table， each of their free hands was gently cradled in the other's. They had been holding hands all this time！