“What is he doing there?”

I saw something today that made me think.

I saw a man on a bench.

And I wondered what he was doing there.

It wasn’t the first time I had seen him.

He was always there.

Sitting on the same bench.

Every day.

I don’t know why I haven’t thought about him before.

I guess I never cared.

But today I wondered.

What is he doing there every day?

He’s never talking to anyone.

He’s never even looking at anyone.

He just sits there with his eyes closed.

I thought about asking him but then I thought that might be rude.

Maybe he doesn’t want to be bothered.

But I still wonder, even more now when I’ve started noticing him as I walk past, what is he doing there?

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Categories: flash fictionTags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

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