The joggers suffocating ...

The joggers suffocating, anxiously gulping the air, panting heavily. Elderly couples hand in hand, and lonely widows with gently-looking faces, resting their bones at park benches in the mild mid-afternoon spring sun. Sporadic would-be athletes stretching their muscles, lying flat on the grass unaware they're just exercising where dogs use to urinate. Hordes of dog walkers doing their daily, ingrate duties - some of them delighted, though, some absent-minded and secretly ruminating thoughts in their minds, some bored to death. The shadow of an eventual has-been, passing by. Annoying noises from the hurrying cars, and trucks, and motorbikes, and buses, in the four-laned avenue nearby - a racing track at night. Incipient teenage lovers holding hands and kissing, some passionately, as if pretending on a play, some mechanically, some slyly. A plethora of unrelated lives converging for a fraction of the day, to rapidly disperse and converge with other lives somewhere else, to drift away and converge again. No interaction needed, no eye-to-eye contact sought - the simple, ordinary, developing events provide a reassuring reference frame, a comforting herd instinct, gratifying.