Conversation · Bench

It's both dark and cold... ultimately not the best time for sitting on a stone bench.

You gaze at the shadows deepening all around you... it's almost unnerving.

Every so often you catch a glimpse of the sun still shining, somewhere behind the clouds of rain...

Slowly, snowflakes fall on your mutton-chops... you try to catch a few on your tongue. They are cold.

You can barely look up into the sky, the sun is bright and powerful... it blinds...

You try to concentrate on the sky above, but this time around, the stone underneath you feels uncomfortable...

Why are you sitting around on your fat ass?! Do some push-ups, for gods' sake!!

A flock of seagulls flies overhead, heading towards... who knows where. Soon enough they are out of sight...

You squint your eyes, attempting to find something of interest... No, there is nothing up there except the sky.

Time passes...

The sky is overcast, rain pours onto the sand and the reeds...

The snow tells of a winter that has not yet fully passed... was this your final winter?

The sun slowly rises above the waves... each beam of light reflecting off the water into a million directions.

Darkness ahead. You don't even know what you are waiting for anymore...

It's getting so dark you can barely make out the snowflakes drifting down from the sky...

The sun draws ever closer to the horizon; the sky is a panorama of intense colours...

What events led you to sitting on a bench, completely drenched? The coast is bleak, the rain is bleak, your soul is bleak.

The glacial gusts from the sea do not a pleasant rest make... you should probably move before you freeze.

The sun does its best to ward off the chill of the coast... it barely helps. As if the world itself has turned against you...

Your eyes are caught on the towers of La Delta across the bay... it sure makes a pretty skyline...

It's because of all the money. Even the sky gets an aura of glistening lucre.

What is that nigh-unnoticeable dot in the sky? Huh... odd.

It looks like an aerostatic, very high above...

You're hoping the sky on the coast looks different, more interesting... but in truth, it doesn't...

[Get up.]

You sit on the wind-worn wooden planks of the bench. Your feet ache.