The Bench

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The birds are pretty today. More so than usual. The pigeons dance and dart moving at lighting speeds along the battered sidewalk at which I lay rest at upon a most exquisite bench. Cherry wood and dark iron masterfully carved into a comfortable seat with lovely eccentric designs- a most beautiful masterpiece, and here it resides. On an ancient street bordered by a present street.

This bench has witnessed so much. Most notable I would say would be the change of man. This bench has experienced the future like no other being, heels to hoofs to wheels, not to mention the substantial amount of gossip and love it has supported with its broad frames.

Such a wonderful life that must be. To have lived though such things. Pure feelings, altered lies, and the ever increasing advancement in the harbinger of Armageddon this world calls technology. This lucky bench, and lucky me to be seated upon it on this fine sunny day.

The white rays played hide and seek on the cracked concrete strip at my feet. The clouds overhead sailed along the ocean sky, spontaneously blanketing the joyful sun. What a beautiful day it is.

Suddenly, the birds near me flutter away in unison and chaos, ascending to the vast sky trying to make the most distance from me and the encyclopedia which I rest on. I realize soon the reason for there immediate flee. Along the side walk of the future arrives my reason for wait. With a loud hiss and a shuttle rumble my bus ride slowly stops in front of me, collapsing the entrance door inside of its massive body to revile its large brain.

Casually, I arise from my historical seat and begin to tread toward the metal colossus. As I near my ferry the sunlight engrosses my body, filling me with a kind warmth.

I hesitantly stop.

Something inside of me urges me to look back. To look back at the bench. I give into the temptation and rotate my body to where I had just been sitting a few moments ago. That gorgeous bench. Expertly crafted wood and metal, combined into one of the greatest works of art and architecture to have ever been constructed.

Such a beautiful bench.

Being welcomed back to the world by an ear shattering sound of a car horn I turn back to the future and take my steps into one of humanity's many destructive creations. Technology-the messenger of doom. This bus and many of mans creations where constructed for an easier life. But by the minds and hands of men, such creations are used to take those lives just as easy. Unintentionally or purposefully.

I walk down the narrow trail in the local bus, traveling past the usually inhabitants. I make my way farther back and decide to claim a seat at the back next to a window that looked out toward the bench. This bus seat is most uncomfortable. Dirty, coarse, and unpleasant to look at. I turn my head toward the window and gaze out with sorrowful eyes.

Why cant this seat be as comfortable and beautiful as that bench?





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