It is a day like today; early November and bitingly chilly.  The river is not frozen yet; it is the first of the cold days.  There will be warmer ones yet, but not many.  The youth on the bench relax and chatter together for an hour, incidentally at this bridge.  It is a nice spot to just sit-- not too intimate to create awkwardness, and not too crowded to distract.  The people think about unwieldiness.  It is a playful conversation that they both take seriously-- but not so seriously that they don't have fun with the topic.  They are talking about people having spirits and the implications of such.  They make jokes about the exaggerations of the idea, but they like the idea that there is more than flesh to us and to them.  They laugh at the idea of people possessing spirits that are of a different age than the body of the person; perhaps spirits run on different clocks and calendars.  It would explain a lot.
