The Bench

Every time she finds the world a bit too difficult to understand, she returns to the park with a cup of coffee, her notebook and a pen. When she's getting closer to her regular bench in front of the fountain, she feels a kind of relief combined with a feeling of emptiness.
She sits down and watches the people around here in the park. Trying to read there body language, understanding what their talking about, thinking and feeling. And every time she sees something she wants to remember, she takes notes.
         "Her facial expression when reading the sad ending in her book."
         "The old couple sitting together and holding hands. Smiling at each other in silence."
         "The proud smile of a mother looking down on her baby that sleeps in its stroller."
Those little things in life that a lot of us just pass everyday is being noted and stored in her memory. All those things that can either make her day a little better or just get her thoughts onto something else.

This day fall is creeping in on the city. She had to put on her red jacket before going out and the wind is blowing cool over her, making waves in here hair. The notebook and pen lays beside her on the bench while she's warming her hands on the paper cup filled with hot coffee. Her eyes are faced out towards the park, but her mind is elsewhere.
Suddenly a man sits down besides her.
         'Hi there!'
She recognizes him at once as the barista from the coffee shop where she gets her coffee to go.
         'Hi.'
He smiles a shy and careful smile at here.
         'How was your coffee today?'
         'It was perfect.' she says while she's wondering if he's trying to flirt with her, 'As always.'
He smiles and thanks her, and they sit in silence for a little while.
         'Can I ask you something?'
She's surprised and intrigued at the same time.
         'Sure! But I won't promise you an answer.'
He chuckles mildly at her safe answer while he looks down at her notebook.
         'What exactly is it that you do while you sit here and write?'
She feels a little embarrassed thinking about how the windows of the coffee shop faces this way. She had never thought about that before. It hadn't crossed her mind that someone might actually notice how often she sits there.
         'I look at the world.'
He looks out over the park and when he asks his next question his eyes are concentrated on a young loving couple sitting on another bench.
         'What are you going to do with all the notes? Write a book or something?'
She starts wondering about what kind of strange book that would have been, and she starts chuckling and staring down at her hands and the coffee cup resting in her lap.
         'No I'm trying to get my thoughts onto other things, or maybe to understand a bit more.'
He nods his head.
         'Gotten any wiser yet?'
She shakes her head with a tiny smile on her face.
         'Can I read?'
His question takes her by surprise. She had never shown the book to anyone, but she couldn't come up with a good reason to not let him read. She puts her right hand on the notebook, sighs nervously and then pushes it carefully towards him.
She watches him reading page up and page down. Seeing how his facial expression changes carefully, from little smiles to a small frown.
         'May I?' He points to her pen, still lying on the bench beside her.
         'Be my guest.'
Her curiosity grows bigger and bigger while he writes down words that she cannot see. When he's done he looks over what he has written, rips out the page and folds it twice. He picks up a tennis ball sized rock from beside the bench and lays it on top of the folded paper. With his hand still on the rock he looks at her and smiles. Then he lets go and walks away.
She watches him while he's walking away from here. And when he disappears into the coffee shop she picks up the paper. Everything around her gets out of focus while she stares at the words he had written.

         "He watches a girl he likes while wondering who has made her so sad..."

With tears in her eyes she starts writing on the same piece of paper, folds it and puts it under the same rock. She has a moment of doubt, but it passes quickly. You can hear a heavy sigh from her before she turns around and starts walking. She dries a tear from her cheek before a relieved and careful smile appears.
Just a few minutes later the barista sits on the bench, paper in hand:

         "He who sat here with her a long time ago promised he would always be there for her.
He lied..."