Ordinary World

She sat and ate her lunch on her bench, the one in the park, over by the pond next to the path where people walked their dogs or strolled by with baby carriages or ate their lunch.

The park was especially busy this spring afternoon with all kinds of visitors strolling and enjoying the warm sunshine. There were kids, dogs, moms, au pairs pushing strollers with great abandon as if today was never ending. All kinds of visitors, old ones, young ones, skinny ones, fat ones, those in love, those no longer holding someone’s hand, pretty ones, handsome ones, ugly ones especially the guy over by the tree, in the navy blue suit and the cheap sunglasses and disheveled tie. She held her thoughts and turned her head away so he would not notice her staring at him as he painted the side of an elm with, well with his bodily fluids.

Over her shoulder some old men playing bocce ball and arguing over points and reminiscing about past lives, long lost loves, women of their dreams, movie stars and pin up girls. A distinguished member of the group walked over to the man in the blue suit and cheap sunglasses and starts to yell at him calling him names in Italian and gesturing, pointing over to the park's rest rooms. She found that funny and giggled as she imagined an old man fighting with some young obviously drunk business man over where and when it is polite to relieve oneself. Politically correct pee.

Over on the far side of the park a street department gang started up after their lunch with their pneumatic hammer and yelling and giving directions to passer bys and bothering women walking by. The foreman yelled something and they went quiet, concentrating on their work digging up another part of another street for something or other.

A mounted police officer stopped by talking, laughing with the work crew as they swapped stories about where to sit and get the best people watching in. People watching, obviously their code word for girl watching she thought. She wondered if they would be watching her when she left the park as she had to pass them to get back to work. She made a mental note to go the long way back to work.

Looking at her watch she noticed her thirty minutes, her half hour, her lunch, her break, her mandatory meal as required by law was about over. It was too nice. The spring sun was out and the tress were beginning to bud, children were out playing, young couples walked by hand in hand. Unable to finish her sandwich, she laid back on the bench soaking in the warm spring air and listening. The sounds of the pneumatic drill, the children laughing, the honking of geese and ducks from the pond. She thought she heard the policeman's horse neigh and every once in a while a car horn distant and alone underscored by the wind ever so lightly breezing through the tops of the trees.

In her solitude she concentrated on the most distant sound she could recognize, the sound of children complaining to their mother, their nanny, their au pair, the baby sitter that ice cream was made of milk and therefore was a healthy good for you food. She imagined herself as a balloon one of those that the old lady over by the pond with the bad wig and smelling of cigarettes was selling. She had been let go to drift high above the park where she spied on the geese, the ducks, the children, the workmen, the policeman on his horse, the old men playing bocce, and the lout peeing on the poor defenseless tree. Drifting higher above the trees, being tossing about like a float in the waves of the ocean, an ocean and currents of air, she felt free.

Her phone buzzed and brought her back to the bench, the park, the block, the city and reminded her that it was time to go back to work to the filing, the letters, the bookkeeping, the everyday. She smiled at a young boy who passed, all excited to be in the park carrying a Frisbee and talking a mile a minute to an older man. They exchanged smiles. Standing she surveyed the park and its springtime afternoon inhabitants the symphony of her afternoon.

Looking at her phone she made the decision and dialed the office and let her boss know that she wasn't feeling well. Must be something going around. Gathering her things she walked through the park, fed some of her unfinished sandwich to the ducks and geese, bought an ice cream, a balloon and walked purposely by the workman listening for any off color remarks.

At the edge of the park, those edges where a park gets absorbed back in to the city, the grimy sidewalk barrier, she waited for the light to turn. Standing next to her was a boy with a Frisbee and his father. Without thinking, without regret she introduced herself and remarked on what a beautiful day it was. The man agreed and asked if she would like to join them for a coffee, a tea, a pastry. The three of them playing hooky on a fine spring afternoon, sitting in a cafe watching as the rest of the world passed by busy, too busy to notice the balloon tied to the back of her chair. Later being pleased with herself, with her choice of an afternoon off, she let go the balloon. The three of them watched as it went up catching the current, the breeze and then drifted off to be swallowed up by tall buildings, taller buildings and then out of the city.