Prompt: At a park bench an unfamiliar man sits beside you and glances at your newspaper. Unnerved by his presence you hand it to him with a nod. He takes it, nods back, places his briefcase by your feet and walks away.
It was a Thursday. The sun was bright in the slate sky. Neil sat on the park bench leafing through the newspaper, not really reading it. Watching the people who came through the park was more interesting today. A man jogged by, his yellow lab leashed at his side. The dog's tags tinkled in time with their steps like the average man's Rocky theme.
The trees were nearly bare. A few yellowed leaves clung to thin twigs while the ground was littered with reds, browns, and oranges. A squirrel skittered through the leaves across from him. He watched it until a young couple caught his eye. They held each other's hands, fingers intertwined; their arms touched as though their jackets were sewn together. And they smiled, always smiled as they strolled passed. Neil envied them, but felt warmed by their obvious affections.
He looked down at his newspaper again. Another op-ed about the political climate rambled about the right wing candidate's latest unveiled candidate. Neil glanced at his watch and decided to take the full hour he was offered for his lunch break. There wouldn't be many more days of crisp, clear weather before the biting cold hit.
Back to his newspaper the political cartoon caught his eye. A hippopotamus labeled "Russia" was sitting upon a caricature of Uncle Sam while what were supposed to be politician huddled in another corner and argued about policy. Neil shook his head. He looked up as a man sat beside him on the bench, placing a black briefcase on the ground between them.
There were four empty benches along this section of promenade and yet this man had sat on his bench. Looking back to his paper, Neil decided the man must be lonely. Sometimes he felt lonely and it helped to just be near people even if he didn't know them. He would go to a Starbucks and order a coffee even though he didn't like coffee. Just to be in a place that was so alive; somewhere with a pulse and the chatter of life made him feel less lonely. Sometimes, talking to his cat Sully just didn't cut it.
The man adjusted himself and looked at Neil then Neil's newspaper. Neil smiled a little, half mouth smile. The man looked him in the eye without blinking. Neil went back to his paper, to the op-ed, but he couldn't focus. He could feel the man staring at him. He turned the page and started the reading the middle of an article that had carried over from the front page. He caught a few words, but was certain the man was still looking at him and his newspaper.
Chancing a look he glanced to his right. The man shifted and looked at him again then to the newspaper. Closing the thin pages quickly Neil thrust the paper at the man who took it. He folded the newspaper calmly and tucked it under his arm as he stood. Then, the man did the strangest thing, he nodded at Neil and walked away.
He was so surprised that Neil didn't immediately notice the briefcase still on the ground. He watched the man turn a corner and disappear behind the trees. Neil sat, brow furrowed, and wondered for a moment.
"That was odd," Neil said to himself as he stood. It was then he saw the briefcase. "Oh no," he sighed realizing the man had forgotten his attache. Neil picked it up and headed the direction the man had gone. As he walked Neil inspected the case for a tag or any identifying marks, but there were none. There was only a small lock with a combination dial on it.
Neil looked up and down the street, but couldn't see the man. He could be miles away now. He could have taken a cab or the subway line and be halfway across the city. Turning back to the park, Neil walked back tot he park and sat on the bench again. He laid the briefcase on his lap and drummed his fingers on it. Black leather, black handle, and a silver lock. There was nothing particular about this case at all. Neil pitied the man who had taken his newspaper. He could have forgotten important papers. He could be walking into a meeting right now with nothing to show, but a newspaper.
"He'll come back," Neil decided. The man would realize he had forgotten his attache and come back to the park looking for it. Neil checked his watch. He only had twenty minutes of his lunch break left which meant he could only wait ten minutes. That would certainly be long enough for the man to realize he had left his briefcase in the park. He would wait.
Ten minutes past quicker than Neil expected. He had to get back to work. Neil looked worriedly at the briefcase. He saw only two options: leave it or take it. If he left it then who knew what would happen to it. The weatherman had not called for rain, but the weatherman did not predict thieves. Glancing at his watch Neil made his decision. He would come back tomorrow and see if the man showed up. Certainly the man would come back in search of his briefcase, Neil believed.
Taking the briefcase in hand he got up from the bench and started the four minute walk back to his office completely unaware of the woman with the camera who had been snapping pictures of him ever since the other man had shown up.
The trees were nearly bare. A few yellowed leaves clung to thin twigs while the ground was littered with reds, browns, and oranges. A squirrel skittered through the leaves across from him. He watched it until a young couple caught his eye. They held each other's hands, fingers intertwined; their arms touched as though their jackets were sewn together. And they smiled, always smiled as they strolled passed. Neil envied them, but felt warmed by their obvious affections.
He looked down at his newspaper again. Another op-ed about the political climate rambled about the right wing candidate's latest unveiled candidate. Neil glanced at his watch and decided to take the full hour he was offered for his lunch break. There wouldn't be many more days of crisp, clear weather before the biting cold hit.
Back to his newspaper the political cartoon caught his eye. A hippopotamus labeled "Russia" was sitting upon a caricature of Uncle Sam while what were supposed to be politician huddled in another corner and argued about policy. Neil shook his head. He looked up as a man sat beside him on the bench, placing a black briefcase on the ground between them.
There were four empty benches along this section of promenade and yet this man had sat on his bench. Looking back to his paper, Neil decided the man must be lonely. Sometimes he felt lonely and it helped to just be near people even if he didn't know them. He would go to a Starbucks and order a coffee even though he didn't like coffee. Just to be in a place that was so alive; somewhere with a pulse and the chatter of life made him feel less lonely. Sometimes, talking to his cat Sully just didn't cut it.
The man adjusted himself and looked at Neil then Neil's newspaper. Neil smiled a little, half mouth smile. The man looked him in the eye without blinking. Neil went back to his paper, to the op-ed, but he couldn't focus. He could feel the man staring at him. He turned the page and started the reading the middle of an article that had carried over from the front page. He caught a few words, but was certain the man was still looking at him and his newspaper.
Chancing a look he glanced to his right. The man shifted and looked at him again then to the newspaper. Closing the thin pages quickly Neil thrust the paper at the man who took it. He folded the newspaper calmly and tucked it under his arm as he stood. Then, the man did the strangest thing, he nodded at Neil and walked away.
He was so surprised that Neil didn't immediately notice the briefcase still on the ground. He watched the man turn a corner and disappear behind the trees. Neil sat, brow furrowed, and wondered for a moment.
"That was odd," Neil said to himself as he stood. It was then he saw the briefcase. "Oh no," he sighed realizing the man had forgotten his attache. Neil picked it up and headed the direction the man had gone. As he walked Neil inspected the case for a tag or any identifying marks, but there were none. There was only a small lock with a combination dial on it.
Neil looked up and down the street, but couldn't see the man. He could be miles away now. He could have taken a cab or the subway line and be halfway across the city. Turning back to the park, Neil walked back tot he park and sat on the bench again. He laid the briefcase on his lap and drummed his fingers on it. Black leather, black handle, and a silver lock. There was nothing particular about this case at all. Neil pitied the man who had taken his newspaper. He could have forgotten important papers. He could be walking into a meeting right now with nothing to show, but a newspaper.
"He'll come back," Neil decided. The man would realize he had forgotten his attache and come back to the park looking for it. Neil checked his watch. He only had twenty minutes of his lunch break left which meant he could only wait ten minutes. That would certainly be long enough for the man to realize he had left his briefcase in the park. He would wait.
Ten minutes past quicker than Neil expected. He had to get back to work. Neil looked worriedly at the briefcase. He saw only two options: leave it or take it. If he left it then who knew what would happen to it. The weatherman had not called for rain, but the weatherman did not predict thieves. Glancing at his watch Neil made his decision. He would come back tomorrow and see if the man showed up. Certainly the man would come back in search of his briefcase, Neil believed.
Taking the briefcase in hand he got up from the bench and started the four minute walk back to his office completely unaware of the woman with the camera who had been snapping pictures of him ever since the other man had shown up.
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