The Bench for Blogophilia 31.6


Photo by Susan Koenig

Photo by Susan Koenig

August 1, 1963

Two workmen carried the seat from their truck to the grassy knoll. Hal wiped his forehead with a blue bandana while Denny drew in gulps of air. “I really must give up the smokes.”

Both men surveyed the bench “It sure was heavy,” said Hal.

“Yeah it’s beautiful oak and the arms are wrought iron.”

Hal turned around “Great spot. The lake and the boats a pretty soothing site.”

Denny pulled his smokes from his shirt pocket lit one and looked over his shoulder. “Yeah I feel like diving in. Well let’s hustle and get home to a cold beer.”

August 1, 1973

A young couple plopped on the bench. “Whew it’s hot!” Alice Moore said, and flapped the hem of her long skirt like a fan. “Such a relaxing view.”

Vincent nodded and brushed his long hair away from his eyes.  “I have something to ask you,” and he quickly repositioned himself on bended knee in front of Alice.

“It’s muddy your pants will get dirty.”

Vincent claimed Alice’s hand. “Will you marry me?”

Alice’s brown eyes filled with tears. “Oh yes Alice Rinaldo has a nice ring to it.”

And she bent down to kiss him. “But won’t your parents object?”

August 1, 1983

Erica rolled the stroller toward the bench. Hot humid air and constant walking in an attempt to lull six month old Kenneth to sleep had exhausted her. The wooden seat appeared dirty and the uncut grass added to the area’s unattractiveness.

However she had to get off her feet so she was grateful for any opportunity.

Kenneth who she called bright eyes, because he examined everything in his environment, had finally dropped off. She exhaled. Her muscles relaxed. She gazed at the blue water, the boats in the harbour and, out of the corner of her eyes, the light house.

August 1, 1993

They sat on the bench. “It’s a warm day and the view is peaceful,” Flo said. Larry clasped her hand. She peered at his face with the sweet eyes and though his hair was thinning and his weight expanding she didn’t mind. Love at any age is blind.

“I’ve spoken to my kids.”

She worried expecting bad news.

“We had a long chat.”

Flo tensed.

“They upset me a great deal.”

Is he dumping me?

“I don’t care that they think a man of my age is acting foolishly. I’ve made up my mind. Will you move in with me?”

August 1, 2003

I am Josh. It is too hot today. The water is blue and pretty. My shirt is red. I sit on this bench and think. They say I do not think but they are not in my head so they do not know. Ma and Pa say I am special and soon will go to live in a  special school for people like me. I do not know what they mean. People like me. Ma and Pa do not want me now. I am too big and too much trouble. I do not want to go. I am people too.

August 1, 2013

So here I sit, screws  rusted, wood dried and dead,  black paint chipping off the wrought iron. I can hear the planks as they rot. Few people visit now. The weeds creep up almost covering me, hiding me.  Even the mosquitoes don’t linger. I’ve been here a long time and now that I am old no one bothers to care for me. They pretend I do not exist.  I provided a good service for a long time as an upstanding member of the community.  If anyone listened I could tell stories about the people I served. But no one listens.

The six snapshots of the bench are all drabbles

***

This one is not a drabble and  incorporates the prompts for the challenge.

***

September  24, 2013

Dave’s e-mail directed Monroe to a bench on Coronation Street.

He’d had a hell of a time finding the spot. It wasn’t easy for a Blubaden in Port Stanley to control his instincts. Just the odours alone! Tanning oil, and fish ‘n’ chips –which he not only couldn’t eat but which caused dizziness with their  putrid smells. The red umbrella on the beach didn’t help either.

Now where was this Dave guy?   

Somehow, through Google, Dave had found Monroe and requested admittance  to HomeOn the phone Dave said the concept of Home intrigued him and believed he would fit right in. The Wesen hoped he made the right decision in agreeing to the arrangement.

Monroe sensed the presence of a human. Good thing ‘cause he wasn’t about to hang around all night. He had things to do.  A musical aura surrounded the approaching man. It sounded like Spinning Wheel by Blood Sweat and Tears laced with Mozart. Dave sat down and  peered in every direction to ensure he hadn’t been followed.

After introductions Dave asked if Home was similar to  the Afterlife or Waiting for god.

“Nooo.. it’s for “real world” challenged folks who wish to dance in the world of fantasy.  Home is for an eternity. And you won’t have to wait for god. We consider Jasper #1 as a deity or as a king, take your pick. Jasper #2 thinks he’s god though, so simply play along.”

Dave rose from his seat. “That’s for me. Let’s go!”

Monroe stood. “By the time the music stops we’ll be Home.”

***

Thank you Dave

written for

Blogophilia Week 31.6 – When the Music Stops
Bonus Points:
(Hard, 2 pts): incorporate a character from a Grimm’s Fairytale
(Easy, 1 pt): include a British TV show

Monroe is a character from the TV show Grimm

British TV shows used: Coronation Street, Afterlife, Waiting for god

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Blogophilia, Writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

26 Responses to The Bench for Blogophilia 31.6

  1. VR Barkowski says:

    Loved the drabbles and the snapshot of the bench. I felt sorry for Mr. Bench after August 1—nicely done. Also great job working in blutbaden/wesen. Can’t say I know Monroe as I’ve never seen the TV show, but I recognized all the British shows.

    VR Barkowski

  2. September 26, 2013

    Jerry and his Dad walk briskly up the sidewalk, carrying the tool kit and paint. Dad carefully lays the drop cloth around while Jerry pulls out the sandpaper. They say little as the hands of time are rolled back. Gray patina gives way to soft glowing grain. Rough oxide turns to a smooth gunmetal gray. Suzanne cuts the weeds back and plants Chrysanthemums transplanted from Mother’s garden.

    They step back and admire their handiwork. Mother comes walking up. Dad takes her by the hand and sits her on the bench. He gets down on one knee.

    “Flo, will you marry me again?

  3. Blue fool says:

    Loved the Drabbles! The bench that served for so many momentous life events…To have served so well only to succumb to time, unnoticed and alone. So Sad!

    There is no place like home. Yes, Dave, who does “dance in a world of fantasy”, will fit in there; very well, very well indeed!

    Wonderfully written! 🙂

  4. Myke Todd says:

    Mozart? What? … Well, other than that line, this is a most impressive piece, Sweet Sue. You have some of the most fascinating writing concepts. I bet you are a blast to hang out with, in the neighborhood.

  5. Fantastic! though the last drabble made me teary eyed… I’m getting soft. Loved the whole post!!!

  6. Tyler/Chuck says:

    I’ve always assumed we all dance in and out of reality. More a question of awareness – but maybe I’m myopic on this one.

  7. Enthralling… loved the bench moments… enjoyed this immensely.

  8. Neat idea, the life of a bench 🙂 However did you come up with that?

  9. Touches my heart as I read. Such a wonderful bench. Such talented writing and photography. ~barb k~

  10. Irene says:

    What a novel idea! The life of a bench…

  11. Excellent ~ great idea to write “snapshots” of the bench every 10 years. Shows how times change but some things do stay the same. Well, almost. Love this, warms my heart.

  12. The last two ‘snapshots’ brought tears to my eyes. What a beautiful piece.

Aw come on say something....

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s