The Musings of AnastasiaCherie

A Long Time to Wait

Wind kissed the freshly fallen leaves that lightly shifted on the concrete. Street lamps were aglow as the sun lazily made it's departure, brilliantly splashing an array of gold and pink across the heavens. A few straggling flocks of geese made their rounds, faintly honking to each other to ensure that every member was accounted for.

Whooshing of tires on road and the occasional blaring horns blended into the foreground. The rumble of casual foot traffic added to the melody of rushing to and fro. Flickering florescent signs burst to life as the cityscape dazzlingly awoke in electrical spectacle.

All too busy for his liking.

In a secluded public park tucked almost out of sight was an assortment of bronze statues. Surrounded by a generous swath of trees, half trimmed bushes, and arranged flower boxes, these figures were shielded from the foul touch of civilization. Moss and stray weeds tangled themselves around their sculpted forms.

With the level of mastery and creative skill, these human statuettes almost seemed like they harbored the flame of life. However, upon noticing that small details and fine lines had been softened from the rain, or taking note of metal tarnished with a pastel turquoise dust broke the illusion as truth settled in. The garden of bronze had been left unattended for some time. A mere child would have believed the statues had been entirely forgotten.

Molten models of Maidens and Men.

Crafted idols of Paupers and Local Legends.

Each had a particular story to call their own, erected conveniently beside them on a small pulpit for all curious visitors to enjoy. Time paired with the natural order of the elements quietly eroded the raised writing. Blurring out some sparse words to entire sentences made their tales altogether illegible.

For that was a true tragedy.

Night billowed across the skies and thousands of diamonds peppered the inky navy blue. Critters that creep the earth chattered aloud to no one in particular, drowning out the cacophony of human presence. Unbeknownst to society or even to the common folk, this specific place was thriving on magic.

After decades of fading from human memory, the statues started creating memories of their own. Full of personality, sensitivity, and most importantly: liberated from what humanity had decided was possible.

Near a small water fountain gurgling lightly, stood a statue of an old man. Sporting a classic button down shirt and overalls, his slouched form was sitting on a stone grasping a tall staff in his left weathered hand. Half of his lower body was covered in overgrown baby's breath and clovers. The absent-minded frown etched deeply into his jaw and far away look in his graven eyes seemed stern enough to burn a hole through a squirrel's skull. The worn plaque beside him had the name: 'Obed K. Bree' at the top.

A few moments passed before Obed's peripheral picked up the startled sound of something whisking sloppily behind some bushes. He had planned on staying still for a while longer, but the local figurines had already begun to move from their bases and fraternize with one another. Whatever was hiding was no longer oblivious to the fact that he could move, just like the others.

The figure let out a throaty exhale through his nose in resignation, and inched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. "I can hear ya' pretty well you know. Where I'm from it' be rude to spy on folks."

A frightened squeak chirped from the bushes before a sheepish civilian crawled out of them. "Sorry!"

Obed turned his head toward the movement and pursed his lips. A woman in her mid twenties, dressed in a lavender hoodie, a golden silk scarf and faded blue jeans inched her way over to him. She clutched what appeared to be a notebook to her quivering chest with a ball point green ink pen wedged between her fingers. Her breathing was uneven and her movements started to falter dramatically. The bronze sculpture rose from his seat and used the staff to propel himself closer to land in a crouch. He used his index finger and thumb to catch her with utmost care. His voice was heavier with sadness. "I didn' mean to scare ya'. I jus' like my privacy is all."