autumn approaches

An auld guy at the bus stop was complaining that they took away his driving license.
" A year ago! And because of that.."
His head made the slightest nod towards the Alzheimer Scotland building that he'd not long come from.
"I had to sell my car! They made me sell the car."
We stood there and let the air gather his words till they were just the air we took in and breathed out there standing waiting for the 18 bus. Words I would gather and hand back to him like a basket of fruit wrapped in a bow. But we let them go and he blinked and his nose-hair gathered a droplet that quivered and asked for my attention.
He was gazing at something in front of us, but not actually in front of us.
" They'll not take my yacht though!"
I turned to him smiling at the quip that wasn't a quip.
"My yacht and my crew they'll not take them from me. I'll still sail.."
And the drip from his nose-hair still gathered its weight, and I found myself tearing up and wanting to defend him and his yacht crew more than I wanted to do anything else in this world.
Round the corner, keening like a migrating blue whale, came our bus.