There’s an old man sitting on an old park bench on a passively beautiful Sunday afternoon. The clouds in the sky emanate over the park in a vast, sedative canvas of grey- caressing the world below with a chilly breeze, sending wind channels down to filter its way through and between the intricacies of the foreign world below. The stagnated, vast field of grass withstand the never ending bombardment of children running carelessly, making their forgetful footprint on the ambient fields. Orange, damaged leaves angelically glissade down from the towering trees, and calmly lapse to a serene settlement upon the impermeable field of grass. The beautiful composition of ambient laughter, conversation, screaming and crying generate a harmonious cluster of melodic lines intertwining in varying volumes- setting the tone for the highly-dismissed aspect of an atmospheric congregation of people.The old man looks about him leisurely, ensuring he’s not approachable, yet still appearing to be ponderable. The old park bench is scantily holding up the man with a slight attitude of wobbling and aging. The old man lazily positions himself more comfortably, scooting himself back up against the bench, tucking his legs under, and tucking his hands into his coat pockets. Worn out khaki cardigan, a derogatory dark brown coat, old dark jeans, worn out shoes, and a brown barré on his head. He sits there in solitude, yet within the inevitable presence of an ambient commonwealth- he feels alone in spite of being accompanied. He hastily unravels one of his hands from his thermal pockets and reaches into another pocket of his complex coat and takes out a bag of peanuts. He slowly shakes some peanuts from the crumbled, faded bag into his aged hand and stares down at them with a look of sorrow and nostalgia. He throws them into his mouth and eats them slowly- the old familiar taste throw him back 60 years.


There’s a young boy sitting on freshly painted bright red park bench on a Friday evening. The disregarded duet of luminous exchanges up above in the sky during twilight inculcate a vivifying atmosphere of excitement and anxiety. The fields of grass remain perched and untouched by the old youth during this time, but wait in on the coming of adolescents to step all over them over the weekend. Immaculate, green leaves refreshingly greet the world below as they dangle freely from their protective branches. The provocative rhythmic anthems of cackling, conversing, yelling, and yabbering conceive an asymmetrical, competitive cluster of noises entangling a tune only appreciated and understood by the composers themselves. The young boy looks hastily about him, ensuring his profile looks attractive, yet his build appears intimidating. The new park bench is set in concrete below him, upholding him in a complimentary and motivating attitude. The young boy hurriedly repositions himself more comfortably, scooting up to the edge, extending his legs out in front of him, leaning forward, and resting his elbows on his knees with his hands slightly covering his lips. Brand new white v-neck, a dignifying khaki sweater, speck-and-span blue jeans, fashionable shoes,  and a freshly groomed haircut. He tensely sits there in the dawning, rivaling presence of acquaintances and friends- he feels pressured and stressed in the middle of everyone he knows. In an attempt to appear “cool” he slickly reaches into his jeans pocket and takes out a bag of peanuts. He professionally pours a perfect amount of peanuts from the crumbled, bright red and white bag into his flawless hands and immediately without regard, he chucks them into his mouth and devours them. While he sits there in his small joy of eating his favorite peanuts, he sits back and waits- chewing and looking around. Suddenly, as if hours had gone by, he saw a distant slick and beautiful silhouette walking towards him. Without hesitation, he swallows a bite of half-chewed peanuts and straightens his shirt, touches up his hair, takes a deep breath in, then stands up. The elegant silhouette approaches him and the light from lamppost illuminates her incandescently in the new night. His heart pumps violently in his chest, his hands get sweaty, and the biggest smile of his youth made its way across his awe-struck face. The two interlocked arms and strolled down the park together, through and between the sky’s slight breeze, occasionally lightly stepping over the damp field of grass, under the complimentary dangling leaves, through the now muted anthems of quarreling friends, and towards their new life together.

2 thoughts

  1. Beautiful illustration of a deja vous moment, realizing what now is and remembering what was. I especially like how the park, bench, clothes and status are depicted according the the age of the man on the bench. Nicely done Sebas. I’m glad I took the time to read it. I couldn’t agree more….beautifully sad. Love you!!

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