The park

Andrew

It was around 4:28 and the  sun threw down its golden rays of heat torturing everyone in my group picking up trash. It was my final day at this park and I was beyond happy to finally get out of here and live my life. For the past time I have been doing yard work I have noticed many interesting things in this park. Such as the young couples that copulate on the park's benches. There was a group of kids who would always hang around the play structure and would play pirates every day for around two hours while their mothers gossiped about the latest couple on the Telly. And then there was the man. The painting man as I like to call him. This man would go outside at the heat of the day and watch the children frolic and play around. He would sit there and bring out his little pencil and pad and sketch whatever he saw.On this day at the park he brought a large canvas and a collection of paints. He looked thoughtfully over at the kids and shook his head. He then twisted and looked over at the great trees that were by the park another shake of the head. Finally he looked down and sat there for around three minutes. When he brought his head back up he had started to paint once more.

At the time I was caught by the police I had acquired a slew of charges against me. It was a collection I can't say I am terribly proud to have. Yet alas it is part of my life. This time in my life was marked by the passing of my father who had died in the war the same time last year I had just moved in with my girlfriend and I had fallen into the nasty habit of smoking weed.  It had helped me broden my mind and forget my father's passing. My girlfriend and I smoked together and commonly collaborated on song writing. We were both new artist and were trying To make a name for ourselves. I loved her and she loved me but I am already far from the point of my story, I feel we should get back to it. I had watched this old man paint pictures and draw sketches but never something like this. A truly unique painting of love, the boy in the picture had a Darker look to him yet his eyes were soft and gentle. The girl in the picture looked innocent as if this was her first boyfriend yet she was proud to be seen with him in public. There was a smile among the two teenagers faces and it seemed to me this picture had been seen in real life millions of times but never conveyed in a painting like this.I sat amazed at this drawing that a simple old man had created. The man looked over his shoulder and smiled at me. Embarrassed I looked away and turned read. " Don't worry. he assured me. I wont bite." I looked back at him and made out his face. He looked to be around sixty, his eyes were aqua and gleamed against the sun. His hair was ghost white and reseeding. I looked at the painting and asked. "Who is this painting of?" He smiled and responded it is of me and the girl I love." I smiled it was cute seeing this and almost joyous to know that this man after all these years was still with the same person. But his face sunk he slouched into the bench and started to frown. What he said next still brings a tear to my eyes every now and again.I put my hand on his shoulder and asked him what the matter was. He responded in a small voice. " I have loved her for 40 years now, loved her with every ounce of my being." A tear rolled down his face and fell onto the ground. " If only she knew I loved her, maybe we could have been together."