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Rated: E · Fiction · Contest Entry · #1826119
Before entering a meeting, he spends some of his day taking in the world around him.
Mr. Balorick's Day

"Mister Balorick, Mr. Johnston apologizes for the delay, but an urgent matter has come up and he asks if you would be willing to come back at six P.M tonight."

"Tell him, I will be here. Tell me Miss, can you suggest a pleasant way to kill several hours."

"I love the art district which is right across the park. There are a lot of great art works on display. You couldn’t cover it all even if you had a few days. And there are plenty of bistro’s cafĂ©’s and restaurants around."

Thank you Miss?

"Just call me Annie."

"Thank you Annie, Oh Annie will I have trouble getting into the building that late."

"No. It’s a twenty-four hour building and I’ll be giving the guards your name. So, we’ll see you later Mr. Balorick."

"Jim, Please… just Jim."

"Ok Jim, enjoy your day and I will see you later."

I walked out the door and finding the elevator, went down. I found myself smiling, when I realized I had up until then been a man all about business. The glass elevator allowed me to see the park as I came down. It was big and full of the season’s colors. There was a large pond, an amphitheater, and the building in the distance, a museum perhaps. There was certainly a lot to see. I wasn’t ready to head back to the hotel. I would walk around. After all, I thought, if I got the project, This would be home. And as I reached the ground floor, I realized I could relax a bit, unwind for a while. Time to get a taste of the place. At first, I bolted across the street navigating the busy traffic, as though I were in a rush to accomplish something. The Park wall, thick blocks of rough cut stone, stood before me. Walked to an entry of old burnt red brownstones which echoed of earlier times when horse and buggies passed under its arch. This was an old city. Maybe, I thought, it was why I chose to seek work here.

I had learned, from a friend long ago, that it was good, every now and then to stop and smell the roses. The roses being, everything around one’s self. Today seemed such a day.

I walked, into the park, until the noises of the streets were quieted by distance and trees. Soon, I came upon the Cherry blossoms, which lining the pathway, had laid all but a few of its petals on fields before me and underfoot. The sweetness of the air made me pause and take a full breath. I closed my eyes. But, the world was not gone, only shape and flavored by my other senses. I could still smell her, hear her, feel her at my feet. The bike riders annoyed at my stance in the path, ride past me, as the wind howls its low notes by my ears. The chill of the wind swept my cheeks and I drew my scarf tighter because of it. Footsteps approached me, I can sense, they are arm and arm. I can tell… their steps are in step, and close. I open my eyes, to see them and they smile. I smile back. The world… is getting brighter. I come upon the pond. I sense it first. The water makes everything around it seem closer. Two men talk on the other side. While I don’t hear their words, I heard the pleasant tone of their speech and know they are friends. I wave. They wave back. It’s not important that we don’t know each other. We know we are here, together, sharing the same experience in this single place under the sun, I, walking by and them sailing their boat against the strong autumn breeze. I sit to watch them as they appeared most fascinated when the wind tested their creation with waves whipped by its passing. I too cheered, watching as the tiny ship cut through the bristle of waves bobbing about as if in a small private storm.

Then a woman is walking the path in my same direction coming into my view as she rounds some trees. I see her face from a far and my attention is taken. Her stride toward me is unwavering as I wait for her arrival. The sound of the children at play seems to drift away behind my attention to her gentle gait. Wait…she’s seen my gaze and pretends not to notice. I watch her cheeks brighten, her lips as they widen across her face just shy of a smile. The moment approaches, I wait, and I smile just as she looks up to assure herself of my attention. Her eyes captured by mine, her lips, soft, bloom into a confirming smile she leaves with me as she strides by. The tree branches above shed themselves of their leaves one by one with the aid of the cold breeze, I watch as the fallen dry and curled leaves scrape the ground in her wake. As beauty had come, beauty would go and my day would continue.

I walked closer toward the pond. The trees above me did not whisper here. The wind whipped smoothly across the waters with force and turned me away. The trees everywhere boast the change of the season with each grand sway of the canopy above.
I walked alongside a playground and saw children play. A little girl bundled head to toe from the cold waddles about in pursuit of her brother, hopping backward one hop at a time stays out of her reach while she closes in on him and his claim to his ball. Her mother sings to her son verses of warning he’s slow to heed.

The man renting bicycles begins to close up his business for the day. With heavy gloves dragging chain and tarp, he weaves the chain with care through each bike and covers them all secure. He tosses his satchel over his shoulder and with a strong stride he soon disappears into the streets beyond the walls of the park.

It is time to head back now. It was a beautiful day outside.

By Ironworker156 Submission for the The Writer's Cramp contest 11-15-11 2011 Officially approved Writing.Com Preferred Author logo.
iron workers making things that last

Word Count 1000
© Copyright 2011 Ironworker (ironworker156 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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