To the side of the park was a small fast food stand.

French fries, hamburgers, hot dogs, kid’s meals that parents would buy for their screaming hungry kids, all while vowing to get him/her something more healthy next time, or, better yet, feed them before the screaming started next time.

The rush was on weekends, more precicely Saturdays around lunch time when those same parents decided that a bit of fresh air would do their kids some good, chicken nugget lunches or no.

When I walked by one Wednesday evening, it was empty. Almost empty, actually.

At one of the tables was a couple. I couldn’t really make them out, but I could clearly see their sillouhettes. They were kissing.

Sharing in a private moment that I had tread in upon.

I quickly and quietly made my exit, not wanting to disturb the two lovers.

Still, I had seen them when they thought they were alone, been part of their private moment, their love, even when they thought it was just the two of them. And that’s something, I guess.