Wilson Koewing

Charleston

The middle-aged couple stopped in Charleston on their drive home from the wedding in Savannah. They walked around the Battery and saw the antebellum houses and gazed out at the ocean. 

More enslaved people arrived and were sold here than anywhere else in the south, the husband said. 

I think these houses are gaudy, his wife replied. 

They held hands and walked through downtown Charleston until they reached the French Quarter and the restaurant Husk. They were unaware of the restaurant’s fame but were told if they waited in the bar for ninety minutes, they could have a table. 

They drank expensive cocktails for ninety minutes and felt young and went to their table. 

Their waiter was a kid named Kevin. He cared deeply about his job. He told them everything they wanted to know and, as a result, the husband asked many more questions. 

Kevin answered them all. 

The meal proved a revelation, the best part being the oysters which held a combination of salt and spice. 

These oysters taste just like the ocean, the husband said. 

They taste a little spicy to me, his wife replied.

Arkansas

The middle-aged couple made the mistake of taking Interstate 40 on their way to Colorado. Interstate 40 is the only interstate that bisects America from shore to shore and is, as a result, overrun with eighteen-wheelers. 

Not far into Arkansas the traffic slowed. An eighteen-wheeler had slid through the median, toppled on its side, and blocked the opposite two lanes of traffic. For miles, traffic backed up. 

It doesn’t surprise me, the husband said. This road is too small and too overcrowded for this sort of freight abundance. 

This road seems like the loneliest place on earth, his wife replied.   

Sloane's Lake

The middle-aged couple walked around Sloane’s Lake in the Denver Highlands, a gentrified and newly affluent area north of the city with occasional views of downtown. 

Do you see all those cranes? the husband said. There’s a lot of development here. 

I think cities have too many cars, the wife replied. 

After the walk, the middle-aged couple had a beer on the patio at Joyride Brewery. The husband chose an experimental IPA. The wife, a hoppy pilsner. 

It quickly became apparent to both how hip and trendy the area was. Young people wandered the streets and seemed to appear at random around corners or from cars like where they’d arrived was the epicenter of some simulation. 

The husband thought about how beautiful and fit so many of the young women were. Their physiques in yoga pants he could not ignore. 

The wife noted the muscular men in tight shirts and hats only momentarily. She too was fixated on the women. A strong urge boiled in her that she would again like to dress so free. 

Wilson Koewing is a writer from South Carolina. His work has recently appeared in Olney Magazine, Gargoyle Magazine, and New World Writing.