This is the beginning of a story. I hate typing "he said" "she said"
A man of medium height wearing a tan suit stepped into a park. He remarked quickly a newfound serenity. It was late autumn, and the strength of the leaves’ fingers faded with their color. “I shall sit here a while and dawdle,” he thought to himself, “as today is a day less busy than others.”
His coat spread on the turf, the man sat down to the crackling of leaves. Pine needles poked through the cotton fabric of his pants. Not unhurriedly, a woman came closer along the same path by which the man had chanced upon the park.
“Good morning!” he cried, doffing his cap.
“Good morning?” she inquired as she stopped, an ironical smile curling her lips, “it’s nearly 11:30.”
“You make your time and I’ll take mine,” the man replied, slightly put off.
Not one to sit and chat, the woman was somehow drawn to the man or the park, or the man in the park. She decided to gamble on an interaction.
“Pleasant weather, no?” She remarked.
“Are we not friendly enough now to skip pleasantries; especially those on dull subjects with false claims?” The man asked in return.
“I suppose you’re right; though I do find this weather pleasant.” The woman sat beside the man.
They talked of the future. The man had very little to say; he was one of those rare specimens whose outlook on life evolves perfectly to fit the times. He floated so idly on the winds, in fact, that he was growing senile despite being of only middling age. The woman was somewhat better defined.
The man was speaking of some frivolity as he viewed a figure approaching. His words trailed off slowly as he grew distracted by the newcomer. He had cultivated this habit of leaving off sentences over many years of not caring too highly about what he said.
This newcomer was a man. He held his head thrust forward, so as to sport a bristling mustache, and seemed to strain for height-this gave his shoulders a pinched look.
“Hello,” said the tan-suited man, while the woman recycled his earlier “good morning.”
The new man, who we will denote as mustachioed, fixed an intent look on each speaker, registering their cordialities, “A common greeting from both of you; you don’t seem like interesting people.”
“I could do better with a warning!” cried the woman, “I always take time to organize my thoughts, and to be honest, you approached us just now in a hurried manner.”
“It is too late, I’m afraid, great thoughts are not erected over time; they spring forth! And, you know, first impressions are everything.”
Sullen could describe the look of the woman, tan suit spoke: “I like your mustache.”
“I thank you kindly and accept your compliment, though surely amongst more folks and better-cultured I would disdain such a comment.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Think nothing of it. I must confess I am drawn to this park in which you sit.”
“Ah yes, it’s the leaves isn’t it? It is so poetic how they die and fall.” Said the woman.
A small smile curved a thick mustache. No teeth were shown. “Perhaps…though how can something be poetic without a poem? I shall have to think on it. I doubt not that I will generate a truly original thought on the matter.”
“If you appreciate the park, why not join us? We would not begrudge company.” Tan suit had now decided he found the woman boring.
“I see not the benefit of it. I would sit, and twenty minutes from now, where would I be?” The woman began to answer while tan suit was quickly catching on that only mustaches could answer mustaches. Mustache went on: “I would still be in the park. I cannot justify it. Yet, I must confess, a desire pricks at me from a source to which I am blind. I will join you, but only until this phantom urge abates.”
A group of three was formed. The tan-suited man could not help but remark: “I can’t help but remark, but have you noticed how we all talk like lawyers?”
The park was a large park and our localized story is leaving out much. On the global scale and simultaneously to boot, two young men were meeting for the first time.
“Hi! It’s very nice to meet you,” said the first. He was garbed in durable clothing, there was even a small pack on his back. His hips were his widest point, and he had skinny arms. They seemed to move with an almost imperceptible fluidity. His hair was wavy and light brown. Rosy cheeks framed a mouth that liked to hang open.
“And you as well. I was just following you along this path and you turned around to greet me. That’s how I saw it,” followed the report of the second man. He viewed the world with a silly grin. His head was thrust forward similar to our mustachioed friend, though for entirely different reasons. Since an early age, this young man stood so as to receive stray or errant shots of interest from anywhere he could.
“Have you seen much of the world?” asked the first young man, “I am an avid hiker and I try to see as much of the world as I can-up close and personal, if you take my meaning.”
“I have seen quite a bit of the world. You can ask me about it if you’d like,” replied the grinner.
“Well, I just returned from __X, have you ever been there?” asked the hiker, “There are many examples of the most beautiful pagan architecture. I am still glowing from my visit.”
“I have seen __X. I flew over it just last week. There were very few clouds in the sky at the time, so I dare say I’ve seen more of __X than you.”
“How can you say that?!” the hiker cried, “I saw the land from very close, while you were 20,000 feet in the air. It’s not at all the same. In fact, I don’t think you’ve even seen __X at all.”
“That is the height of unfairness. I was not in control of my distance, it was beyond my power. I highly doubt I could have asked the pilot to fly lower. Indeed, suppose for an instant that you had a 20,000 foot tall giant who wanted to see __X, would you throw his travels in his face for the sole reason that he viewed it all from high up?”
“Well that seems immaterial, as you’re not a 20,000 foot tall giant.”
“Yes, but I am rather tall.” The grinner paused and posed.
“Look, I like you. That stuff about the giant was neat. But you talk too much like a lawyer. We should converse more authentically. Do you see that group of three over there?” He points toward a group in the distance, “ah, another has joined, now they are four. Do you see them?”
The grinner allowed his gaze to be directed. “Yes.”
“Well they are lawyers. We should leave that talk to them.”
“How can you tell they’re lawyers?”
“They’re sitting in a perfect square.”
“Aha! You’re clever. I think I like you too." The grinner tried to think authentically. "Tell me, have you seen the news about the election?”
“I haven’t, I just returned from my travels. What was the result?”
“A perfect tie!”
“You don’t say! What are the chances?”
“100%. It was fated!”
This statement struck a very unpleasant chord with the hiker. His like for the grinner now relied rather heavily on rules of thumb. “I see. So how does our government go ahead from here?”
“Twelve years of anarchy. It’s in the constitution.”
“Serves us right I suppose.”
“Haha, quite so! You know, I think I like you more than ever: a real genuine appreciation. Let’s sit here in the park together. We can chat!”
The hiker could feel his torso wanting to drift away. His arms were waving quite noticeably now. The hips stayed still, he remained rooted and felt condemned.
His coat spread on the turf, the man sat down to the crackling of leaves. Pine needles poked through the cotton fabric of his pants. Not unhurriedly, a woman came closer along the same path by which the man had chanced upon the park.
“Good morning!” he cried, doffing his cap.
“Good morning?” she inquired as she stopped, an ironical smile curling her lips, “it’s nearly 11:30.”
“You make your time and I’ll take mine,” the man replied, slightly put off.
Not one to sit and chat, the woman was somehow drawn to the man or the park, or the man in the park. She decided to gamble on an interaction.
“Pleasant weather, no?” She remarked.
“Are we not friendly enough now to skip pleasantries; especially those on dull subjects with false claims?” The man asked in return.
“I suppose you’re right; though I do find this weather pleasant.” The woman sat beside the man.
They talked of the future. The man had very little to say; he was one of those rare specimens whose outlook on life evolves perfectly to fit the times. He floated so idly on the winds, in fact, that he was growing senile despite being of only middling age. The woman was somewhat better defined.
The man was speaking of some frivolity as he viewed a figure approaching. His words trailed off slowly as he grew distracted by the newcomer. He had cultivated this habit of leaving off sentences over many years of not caring too highly about what he said.
This newcomer was a man. He held his head thrust forward, so as to sport a bristling mustache, and seemed to strain for height-this gave his shoulders a pinched look.
“Hello,” said the tan-suited man, while the woman recycled his earlier “good morning.”
The new man, who we will denote as mustachioed, fixed an intent look on each speaker, registering their cordialities, “A common greeting from both of you; you don’t seem like interesting people.”
“I could do better with a warning!” cried the woman, “I always take time to organize my thoughts, and to be honest, you approached us just now in a hurried manner.”
“It is too late, I’m afraid, great thoughts are not erected over time; they spring forth! And, you know, first impressions are everything.”
Sullen could describe the look of the woman, tan suit spoke: “I like your mustache.”
“I thank you kindly and accept your compliment, though surely amongst more folks and better-cultured I would disdain such a comment.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Think nothing of it. I must confess I am drawn to this park in which you sit.”
“Ah yes, it’s the leaves isn’t it? It is so poetic how they die and fall.” Said the woman.
A small smile curved a thick mustache. No teeth were shown. “Perhaps…though how can something be poetic without a poem? I shall have to think on it. I doubt not that I will generate a truly original thought on the matter.”
“If you appreciate the park, why not join us? We would not begrudge company.” Tan suit had now decided he found the woman boring.
“I see not the benefit of it. I would sit, and twenty minutes from now, where would I be?” The woman began to answer while tan suit was quickly catching on that only mustaches could answer mustaches. Mustache went on: “I would still be in the park. I cannot justify it. Yet, I must confess, a desire pricks at me from a source to which I am blind. I will join you, but only until this phantom urge abates.”
A group of three was formed. The tan-suited man could not help but remark: “I can’t help but remark, but have you noticed how we all talk like lawyers?”
The park was a large park and our localized story is leaving out much. On the global scale and simultaneously to boot, two young men were meeting for the first time.
“Hi! It’s very nice to meet you,” said the first. He was garbed in durable clothing, there was even a small pack on his back. His hips were his widest point, and he had skinny arms. They seemed to move with an almost imperceptible fluidity. His hair was wavy and light brown. Rosy cheeks framed a mouth that liked to hang open.
“And you as well. I was just following you along this path and you turned around to greet me. That’s how I saw it,” followed the report of the second man. He viewed the world with a silly grin. His head was thrust forward similar to our mustachioed friend, though for entirely different reasons. Since an early age, this young man stood so as to receive stray or errant shots of interest from anywhere he could.
“Have you seen much of the world?” asked the first young man, “I am an avid hiker and I try to see as much of the world as I can-up close and personal, if you take my meaning.”
“I have seen quite a bit of the world. You can ask me about it if you’d like,” replied the grinner.
“Well, I just returned from __X, have you ever been there?” asked the hiker, “There are many examples of the most beautiful pagan architecture. I am still glowing from my visit.”
“I have seen __X. I flew over it just last week. There were very few clouds in the sky at the time, so I dare say I’ve seen more of __X than you.”
“How can you say that?!” the hiker cried, “I saw the land from very close, while you were 20,000 feet in the air. It’s not at all the same. In fact, I don’t think you’ve even seen __X at all.”
“That is the height of unfairness. I was not in control of my distance, it was beyond my power. I highly doubt I could have asked the pilot to fly lower. Indeed, suppose for an instant that you had a 20,000 foot tall giant who wanted to see __X, would you throw his travels in his face for the sole reason that he viewed it all from high up?”
“Well that seems immaterial, as you’re not a 20,000 foot tall giant.”
“Yes, but I am rather tall.” The grinner paused and posed.
“Look, I like you. That stuff about the giant was neat. But you talk too much like a lawyer. We should converse more authentically. Do you see that group of three over there?” He points toward a group in the distance, “ah, another has joined, now they are four. Do you see them?”
The grinner allowed his gaze to be directed. “Yes.”
“Well they are lawyers. We should leave that talk to them.”
“How can you tell they’re lawyers?”
“They’re sitting in a perfect square.”
“Aha! You’re clever. I think I like you too." The grinner tried to think authentically. "Tell me, have you seen the news about the election?”
“I haven’t, I just returned from my travels. What was the result?”
“A perfect tie!”
“You don’t say! What are the chances?”
“100%. It was fated!”
This statement struck a very unpleasant chord with the hiker. His like for the grinner now relied rather heavily on rules of thumb. “I see. So how does our government go ahead from here?”
“Twelve years of anarchy. It’s in the constitution.”
“Serves us right I suppose.”
“Haha, quite so! You know, I think I like you more than ever: a real genuine appreciation. Let’s sit here in the park together. We can chat!”
The hiker could feel his torso wanting to drift away. His arms were waving quite noticeably now. The hips stayed still, he remained rooted and felt condemned.