The Old Man used the Park Bench more than he cared to admit. It was a good bench and a sturdy one at that. Mostly, though, it was available when he needed it, which happened to be more with each passing day.
The Old Man talked to the Park Bench. While the Park Bench couldn’t carry on a meaningful conversation, it spoke to the Old Man with words a younger man would never understand
The Park Bench sat bolted to the concrete, enjoying the shade of the enormous maple that overlooked the pond and the park. Always available, always reliable. Not going anywhere and providing weary pedestrians a place to catch a breath and enjoy the natural beauty.
As the Old Man approached the forest green Park Bench for the umpteenth time this year, the Park Bench welcomed the Old Man. It gave him comfort and solace. With no one around to help him celebrate his 92nd trip around the sun, the Old Man relaxed in the arms and lap of the hot steel Park Bench. He wasn’t going anywhere today and the Park Bench didn’t want to give him up so soon. It would provide all the physical comfort the Old Man needed today. It’s unfortunate the Park Bench couldn’t share in the Old Man’s emotional pain as well. It never could nor was it intended to do so.
When the Old Man’s phone buzzed to life while he sat on the Park Bench, he stepped away to talk with his only daughter. They would share special moments out of earshot of the ever-present Park Bench. Some things just couldn’t be trusted to an uncaring, unfeeling, but useful Park Bench.
Still, it was a good Park Bench, a really good Park Bench.
A useful Park Bench or a welcoming Old Recliner--we each have a place of solitude.