What Might We Hear the Bench Say?
I am not a writer yet for the Challenged publication(another amazing Medium publication). But while I peruse other writers’ great pieces here, I’d thought I would try one of the prompt for myself. Here, I will try September’s day 2 prompt challenge, one day in the life of a park bench. Here goes.
A park bench will let us know what its typical day is like if we put some sort of mechanism around it to capture its stories. This could be a video camera, some sort of recorder, a temperature reader, and the list of possibilities goes on.
Imagine the sounds if we were to place a recorder under the bench for one day. We could focus in on the sounds exclusively made by the bench and drown out any background melody of humans speaking or other random sounds. What vibrations might be captured?
CREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAK. Extended out for some time.
This is the bench bearing the weight of a heavier person who has sat down to rest. This could be interpreted as a moan for the person to get off. Or, perhaps the bench is singing “I’m happy to help bear some of your burden for awhile.”
THUMP THUMP THUMP. Carries out for a great period.
The bench is dancing as much as it can in rhythm to happy children jumping up and down for joy as their mother sits on in calm repose watching her kids play in the warm Sun.
Trudging, scampering, then silence.
As humans run or walk past or as creatures like squrriels or birds scurry or fly around or about the bench.
THUD so giant and quick.
The bench is howling in sudden reactive shock as a branch, heavy ball, or other object randomly falls on it or hits it.
Pitter Patter Pitter Patter
Not just echoes of the raindrop, but perhaps a quiet trilling of the benches’ numerous parts letting out relief from a nice natural cleaning.
But most of the time there is mainly silence. Silence as the bench basks itself in the Sun’s warmth or rests in the still of the night. Silent commingling with the smallest of creatures and entities that leave only miniscule vibrations — ants or beetles that crawl about it or leaves that fall upon its parts. The silence is not nothing happening, but the most wondrous, amazing, beautiful occurrences beyond what can be captured.
Like humans, snowflakes, or buckeyes, each bench is unique in shape and identity with innumerable stories to share. Each day will bring new stories and riches the bench has not realized before.
