Do you remember the bench we used to sit on, in the park, beside the ocean? It was so peaceful there, away from the city. We’d watch the children play, and people walking their dogs, and young mothers pushing prams. And behind us, the ocean stretched all the way to America where, perhaps, there were others sitting on benches in parks beside the ocean, wondering about us.
Remember the nice old gentleman we used to see? He always wore a suit, regardless of the weather. And if we met him on the path leading to our bench, how he’d bow his head slightly and touch the crown of his hat as though to lift it, and he’d smile the faintest of smiles to us. Such a nice old gentleman. I haven’t seen him lately.
To be honest, I don’t go to the park so much these days. I mean to go; but there’s always something. You know what it’s like. And we’ve been having a lot of rain too. Sometimes I don’t go out at all. I just stay at home and read; or listen to music; or both. Sometimes, I do both.
I used to take a book and sit on that bench of ours to read, but the Council came and took the bench away. They said it was because the timbers had begun to rot due to the weather and the salt air. I heard that they were going to replace it with a metal one; but I think metal would seem out of place in the park, don’t you? At any rate, the last time I went there, they still hadn’t replaced it. Nothing there but the concrete slab. Couldn’t sit on that, could I? They take such a long time to do things, the Council. But that was a while ago now.
Maybe I’ll take a turn down that way next week to see if they’ve finished it. Even a metal bench would be better than a concrete slab, I suppose. Yes. I’ll do that. And I’ll take a book with me, just in case.