The working day came to an end. All the workers quickly began to fuss, immediately collecting their belongings at lightning speed and heading for the exit. Only one old woman, Mrs. Mills, just Alice, as she asked to be called, was in no hurry.
She slowly folded her glasses into an old purse that was 20 years old but surprisingly well preserved. She looked around to make sure no one had forgotten anything, pushed a chair behind someone and watered a little ficus that was trying so hard to grow up, but somehow it didn’t work out very well.
Alice always walked home through the park, a very old park, where 100-year-old trees lived along with young trees. It was more like a dense forest, which can be filmed in thrillers. But it was completely harmless, and despite its denseness, it was very cozy and lovely.
Alice was walking with a smile on her face. In the park she heard only the singing of birds and the rustle of green leaves. Extraneous sounds seemed to be filtered out. The squeals and laughter of children, someone’s constant chatter on the phone, the rumble from the cars on the nearby street became inaudible to her. She could so skillfully abstract from everything that prevented her from enjoying some precious moment.
Slowly stepping on the new paving slabs, she passed new benches that were about to be installed. And all those people who wanted to take a break immediately sat down on them. Somewhere young couples were sitting in an embrace and timidly tried to kiss so that no one would notice them, somewhere schoolchildren were actively looking for something on their phones, then were giggling in unison, somewhere a business man was sitting in a smoothly ironed suit and talking on the phone in a commanding voice frowning his thick eyebrows. In the evening there were always a lot of people in the park and free benches were in demand.
Alice’s eyes especially sparkled and excitement appeared on her face when she saw one bench. It was an old bench, the bench of her childhood. Not only this one, of course, there were many of them, but they were removed and new ones put in their place.
This one was still there, it was her favorite one. The bench looked really shabby. The paint on the wooden planks was cracked and you could see from the chips what color the bench used to be. Some planks were rotted and this process could not be stopped …
It was free, everyone tried to take their places on the new benches.
“Well, dear, are you still here?” Alice said as she sat down on the bench. “I am so glad to see you. I hope you will not get kicked out of here. You’re so strong and you don’t look so bad.”
And the bench seemed to answer her and immediately began to “tell” something from its memories. Every time Alice was sitting on the bench, she remembered some stories and they were all different. Because the park was her favorite place in the city and she often came here with her friends, then with her husband, children, grandchildren…
This time the bench told her the story of Alice’s meeting with her husband. It was just the same time of the year. This story was especially remembered due to the smell of mowed grass. Now, as then, Alice enjoyed the smell while sitting on the bench. She was sitting and smiled, as now. Then a guy sat down next to her just to tie the laces on her boot. He was about to leave, but noticed a smile on the girl’s face. He was surprised that she smiled at him and couldn’t help talking to her. After that, they met more than once in the park, without agreeing on this in advance. Word for word, and they realized that they were very comfortable together, and Alice fascinated him more and more with her radiance.
“Oh, you’ve chatted me up!” Alice said to the bench. “But thanks for reminding me of my husband. He is just waiting for me at home. He promised that he would cook something delicious for dinner. I hope he will succeed this time!” Alice laughed out loud, patting the bench as if on the shoulder.
Her laughter was abruptly replaced by a sad expression.
“You are so dear to me! you give me such pleasant memories. I hope they won’t bother you and leave you in place …”.
Alice went home and turned around a few more times and cast her eyes on the bench.
It is not known how long this park bench will stay, but for sure it is very dear to someone else as it is to Alice.
Marta Dashkevich is the fourth round winner of our weekly writing competition. She wins $100 AUD and publication in the archipelago.
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