Wrinkly

My thumb has more crevices against the light of my phone in the dark room.

Today at the coffee shop, I saw two women. Older than I. More wise and more wrinkly. I looked closely at their skin. Tried to zoom in with my naked eyes. I saw how they smiled and swapped stories of their mature lives. 

I thought how I am closer in life and age and phase to these older women than I am to the group of teens huddled together, science textbooks sprawled out, attempting to study.

I wonder if the group of girls next to the teen couple came here together. I can sense their insecurities and think back to how alive and terrifying those years are. 

The only boy, on the end, features the standard fluffy teen hair, licks his lips and burrows his head into the book. The girl next to him smiles. 

We all were teens.

We all will get wrinkly faces and thumbs. 

Photo credit: Photo by Ruben Ramirez on Unsplash