Alex sat at the bench, foot tapping idly as he looked around, waiting to spot the mysterious texter. He wondered if there was a point to it; he didn’t remember talking to whoever this was, so how was he going to recognize them?
Maybe it was the girl with the red scarf texting under the streetlight by the corner. She seemed nice. She had the look of either a student or scientist. She could be a marine biologist taking a vacation from the sun and sea of a research station by travelling to the city. Ha. He’d have to work that idea into a story.
Or maybe his date would be the guy walking hurriedly towards the park. The man had a somewhat messy air about him. Maybe he was another creative type. He was a painter… No, he was a sculptor, who liked to produce extremely kitsch pieces as a statement. Alex couldn’t figure out what statement that would be, but it felt ironic enough to be artsy.
But no, the man walked past the park. Shame. He felt someone sit next to him, and turned to see a young woman with dark hair. He started to say something, but didn’t see a flicker of recognition on her face, so pretended to look behind her as if looking for someone.
“Hey, where are you? Waiting at the bench”
“I don’t see you. Can you raise your hand? I’m over by some guy on his phone” she said.
He frowned and started to answer, “I’m at the bench, don’t– Oh.”
He turned to the young woman, who looked like she was having serious trouble holding back a laugh. “Very funny”
She burst out laughing. “Oh my god. You don’t remember me, do you?”
“Oh, you know, we met the other day, right?” He said.
She smirked and replied, “Maybe I should’ve gone with you guys. You clearly had a lot of fun the rest of the night.” Her eyes went down to his sweater and she let out a short laugh. “And WHAT are you wearing?”
“Hey, it’s chilly out!”
“You’re wearing a Christmas sweater,” she said, getting up from the bench. He got up to follow her. “I am!”
She raised an eyebrow. “In April.”
“It’s really warm and comfy.”
“Wow. Are you sure you’re the guy I met on Tuesday? Mr. ‘look at the tie that guy’s wearing?'”
“A-haha. Yeah, I uh, that was on Tuesday. Today’s another day! So what’s your name? I feel really bad thinking of you as ‘her.’ ”
“You are going to have to earn that. But you can call me ‘Agnes’ for now.”
“Oof. Are you sure about that? I feel a little bad doing that to someone I’ve just met. For the second time, I mean.” He said as they walked down the street. “At least let’s make it even. You can call me… Maximilian.”
“Wait, you mean that isn’t your real name? I was starting to think ‘Alex’ was just some random lie you slipped to a girl at a bar. You really look like a Maximillian. Especially with that elegant sweater.” He stole a glance, and saw her trying to bite down a mocking smile.
“Ha ha ha,” he said. “I think you’re just jealous.”
“Oh, oh, definitely.” She nodded. “A Christmas sweater will be perfect soon once summer fashion starts coming in.”
“So where are we going, Agnes?”
“Hey, I told you it’s a surprise!”
“Sure. I’m just not used to following women with old lady names down shady streets.”
“Very funny. Just follow me, we’re nearly there.”
And, cut. We’ll stop the story there for now. I hope to write more than 600 words per post, but seeing as I’ve written something for three days in a row (woot woot!) I’m inclined to cut myself some slack.
Today’s post was difficult to write. The part of my writing with the most room for improvement is dialogue, and properly fleshing out characters as completely different people from each other, and from me. Still, I’m glad I wrote something, regardless of the quality of it.
As always, any criticism, note, whatever, is welcome. I’d like to hear what you liked, or didn’t like, or made you lose interest.
Happy Tuesday. I’ll see you next Friday (and maaaaaybe a little earlier.)