The Park Bench {on hold}

psithurism

psithurism (n) the sound of the wind through the trees

Chrystie looks at the time and then back at her computer screen. She frowns at her article, reading the words aloud to herself.

Furiously, she deletes everything she has written in the past two hours. Nope, it's just not good enough.

The latest article Chrystie is working on involves the new generation's views on cursive. She has already interviewed and researched how 10-year-olds value cursive, but she just can't get the thoughts out onto paper. Thankfully, she has another previously-written article lined up just in case she can't finish this piece on cursive in time.

Frustrated with the quality of her writing, Chrystie turns off her computer without saving the piece. She hopes auto-save will preserve it, but honestly, it wouldn't even matter if it did. Her perfectionist instinct would want her to start over anyway.

She looks at the clock again. It is 5:37, and she knows the business man will be there at the bench.

They've made it an unspoken ritual. For the past 3 days, he comes to the bench after work. The first day, Chrystie was waiting out on her balcony, hoping for the man to show up. Once he arrived, she checked the time and went to meet him. The next day, she just made sure to go to the park around 5:30, which is the time he gets off.

Thankfully, he has always been punctual. As Chrystie recalls the last couple of times the two of them hung out, she realizes with a start that she doesn't know his name! She laughs to herself and thinks about it. Maybe he's a Bryan...no more like a Todd. Yes, Todd. That's his name, she guesses.

She grabs a jacket to lessen the chill. As summer fades to fall, the wind blows through the streets with a fiercer calls. Leaves trail along with the wind like little children playing follow the leader.

Chrystie crosses the street from her building to the park. She tugs her jacket closer to her body and pulls up the hood. Even so, she can clearly hear the psithurism.

The unnamed man looks at her and waves. Today, he isn't wearing a business outfit. Instead, he adorns a Hawaiian t-shirt and beach shorts.

Chrystie snickers to herself at the sight of him. His greying hair is ruffled up from the wind, and he's lounging on their bench with a carefree look. Even so, the man manages to look confident and polished. He doesn't look like a hobo or some random guy just sitting around.

Once Chrystie decreases the distance, the man smiles, "Hey."

"Hi," she replies.

He notices her eyeing his outfit, and a slight blush appears on his cheeks.

She begins, "So...are we going to mention your tourist outfit or are we just going to move past it?"

"I think you just did."

"What did I do?"

"You mentioned it."

Chrystie grins, as she sits beside him. The white-haired woman inquires, "Why are you dressed so different?"

"All my suits are being dry-cleaned."

"Are you serious?"

"No, I'm just messing with you. I actually didn't have work today."

"Why not?"

"I don't have classes on Tuesdays."

Chrystie gasps, "Damn it! It's Tuesday?"

"Mhmm."

"Oh goodness. Well I guess I'm not sleeping tonight."

"So Tuesday's are bad."

"Tuesday's are great. No Mondays are bad."

"Well, Monday is over. You should be rejoicing and jumping around. Why aren't you jumping around?"

"I forgot. I just haven't been keeping track of time very well."

"For what?"

"My article. I told you that I was a journalist right?"

"Sure, yes."

"Well, I am supposed to submit an article every Monday. The magazine goes public every month, as you already know, but we like to have a lot of stories to choose from. So each senior journalist adds an article to this bank from which the editor takes their pick."

"And you forgot yesterday?"

"Not really. I have a previously written article that automatically turns it if I don't write one by Monday."

"Then, what's the problem again?"

"I used my backup! Now I have to write two articles. One for the backup, and one for next Monday."

"It's not that bad! You have a whole 5 days."

"Actually, 6 whole days, smart one."

"No, brilliant one. It's 5 because today is pretty much gone."

"It's not gone if I go home right now and finish it up."

"No, you're not leaving me. You can go home later. This is the only time I get to see you."

"Wow, possessive much."

At this, the man's eyes widen, and he shakes his head several times, "Uh no. Not possessive at all. Not even a little bit. Not even an inch. I just like to spend time with you."

Chrystie smiles and responds, "Me too."

They both look at each other, but the moment passes with the blowing wind. Chrystie remembers not knowing his name.

"Hey, okay, this might be really late, but I don't think I know you name."

The man furrows his eyebrows, trying to recollect their introduction. He realizes, "Huh, you're right. I guess you've always been Mrs. Costa Rica to me."

"Let's get one thing straight, Mister. It's not Mrs."

"I don't understand."

"It's not Missus. It's just Miss."

"Like unmarried?"

"Like not in any relationship."

"Not anymore or not ever?"

"Not now."

The man looks at Chrystie with a fresh set of eyes, "Oh."

She looks at him carefully, dying to know what he is thinking.

_______

cliffhanger. or is it really?

-parisa

(852 words)