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The Line

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Nelson watched as the older man in front of him in line shifted uncomfortably. Tapping the silver haired man on the shoulder he said, “Not to be rude, but would you like me to find you a chair?”

The man turned around and flashed a sheepish smile. “My partner has already gone to procure one for me, thank you.”

“How long have you been together?”

“Almost 50 years now,” the man sighed as he shifted his weight. “I never thought this day would come.”

Nelson looked up as a smaller man made his way towards them with a security guard in tow. “Come along, Napoleon. We’ve been bumped to the head of the line.”

“Illya, I thought we agreed to keep this low key. No preferential treatment.”

Illya smiled mischievously. “That was until I saw how long the line is to get a license. We’ve asked for very little for the work we’ve done. Sneaking ahead in line is very little to ask. Besides, standing this long isn’t good for your back and I don’t want you crippled up and complaining on our honeymoon.”

Nelson couldn’t help grinning when Napoleon winked at him as he and his partner walked away.