Creative Non-Fiction Short Stories. :) Travel, Oldsters, Love, and Compassion.
He had this voice so deep it rumbled along the back beams of the bench we were sharing. I arrived very early for an appointment and thought I should sit outside for a while, waiting to get closer to a fitting arrival time. My hyper-punctuality made me a keen observer of outdoor benches and resting places. I sat alone and scrawled in my notebook as usual, making myself at home. The giant man arrived a few minutes later.
Chatting on his cell phone, fussing with his chest hair, he gazed at me before taking the far side of the seat. He spoke a language I didn’t understand–but since this was one of my first days in Austria, it may have been the German I had been studying for years. I didn’t yet feel brave enough to attempt to eavesdrop for practice.
He shifted his pointed shoes while the bench shuddered under his booming chit-chat. Though I’d always been warned not to talk to strangers, I knew only one person in the city. So I was parked in the center of ceaseless strangers. And I felt delighted to have such a guest joining me, sitting nearby, waiting to be painted, welcoming me to my new home where I would find so many new people to steal.