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Richard
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Richard met his husband David eighteen years ago while riding the bus. When the bus went over a big pothole, David, who was on his way to visit an elderly friend who wasn’t feeling well, spilled a quart of chicken soup down the front of Richard’s shirt. David apologized profusely and then asked Richard out. They went shirt shopping. A year and a half ago David was hit by a car while out for a run. He died at the hospital. Life without David has felt dark and difficult and lonely and muddled. But today, for the first time, Richard felt the light trying to shine through. He’s going to ride the bus and see what happens.
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