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weeping willows trickle with sage green against an azure sky, clear of the cotton clouds. my immaculate black boots grind the pistachio gravel into dust as i continue my stroll towards the bridge; i am surrounded by a plethora of green hues, each blending into the other with the ease and beauty only mother nature holds - my fingers itch to paint. however, i merely shove my hands into the pocket of my camel coat, smiling warmly at an elderly woman and her granddaughter as i pass.
i approach the lake, momentarily forgetting my purpose of being here in the first place. the water is clearer than day and i admire the sunlight dancing on the ripples. juniper reeds sprout uncontrollably from the bank, bleeding into the water before morphing into ginormous water lilies, rising like crocodiles on the surface of the cool liquid; another shade of green is added to the palette. delicate watermelon-pink flowers, scattered upon these parachute leaves by the hand of god, twirl happily in the breeze that rustles my chestnut hair and i raise a calloused hand to card through them, brushing them away from my face.
the real beauty of the park, however, is the periwinkle bridge arching majestically over the pond, a connection between two realms. the paint on the wood is chipped and the whole thing looks as if it were to collapse any minute now, yet it rears it's head proudly against the elements like a stallion free of a rider.
just as i had hoped, a lone figure rests his weary forearms on the rail, gazing distantly at the water below. his tall stature is hunched and his neat dress shoes sit idly on top of his folded coat as he ignores the world around him; i doubt he can even feel the way the ends of his ebony hair graze his eyelashes.
i approach him casually, appearing as if to simply walk by, before turning and leaning against the bridge rail too, a few spaces away.
"shouldn't you be at work?" i jest, drinking in his crisp white shirt, expensive silk tie and creaseless charcoal slacks. the man smiles, his gaze never once leaving the pond.
"as a stranger, i don't think you should be worried about my work schedule."
"you don't recognise me? i'm offended."
his cedar eyes flicker to meet mine and after darting about my face, he stands up stiffly and bows.
"i'm sorry, it's been such a long time! what are you doing back in korea? i thought you went to the states to study music?"
his attention is no longer on the pond below; his foot is submerged beneath the cold water. his legs tense as he fully recognises me now, refusing to do anything but obey my command.
"art actually. i see you followed your goal of becoming a prosecutor."
he inches closer to me on the bridge but in doing so, his waist is also swallowed by the water lilies, enticed by their beauty.
"how did you know?"
for a moment, he takes a step back onto shallow land but the power of mother nature is too great for him to resist.
"you could say i did myresearch on you."
his white shirt becomes translucent, his body distorted by the different speed of light refraction amongst the crystalline water. my hands remain in my pockets as he checks his watch before his brows crease with worry and he hastens to slip his shoes back on, pulling his plum coat over his broad shoulders. an unknown emotion riles up within me and i feel the urge to reach out to him. how can he turn his back on me after what we went through at school?
"ah, why am i not surprised. is that how you knew i'd be here?"
he's daring me to enter the water with him. i laugh, beginning to shuffle out of my boots. my hands pause momentarily at the buttons of my coat.
"i thought you'd be happier to see me."
something inside him flips like a switch. the hands that had been tying his shoelaces falter and he clenches his fists in an awful concoction of anger, hurt and frustration. then he shifts his gaze back to the lilies.
"ever since you left me, living has been hard. i always wonder what i did so wrong to make you up and leave like that. my therapist has diagnosed me with post traumatic stress disorder, anxiety and depression," he whispers, as i stare stoically at his crouched form unsurprised by the information i already knew. "i was going to do it today."
"i want to help you get better." my hand reaches out to him and for a second, the playful glint from our high school days is back in his eyes. he reaches forward with hope and our fingers graze.
then the water fills his lungs as i walk back across the bridge, finding solace in the weeping willows that trickle with sage green against today's azure sky, clear of the cotton clouds.
