Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2198825-On-A-Park-Bench
Rated: E · Short Story · Comedy · #2198825
Two old men shoot the breeze one day ensconced on a park bench.
         "I fell yesterday."
         "Oh no! Where?"
         "Huh, I've been to The Falls."
         "What falls?"
         "Niagara Falls. With Beryl."
         "You were in a barrel?"
         "I can still hear the screaming."
         "I should think so, it was probably intense."
         "Are you crazy? You can't put tents near The Falls. Besides, Beryl would never stand for that. It'd be off-putting."
         "Oh, I agree. A barrel should not be left to fall. I expect it needs proper stacking."
         "What are you on about?"
         "Off balance barrel. I imagine it could be tipped."
         "Well, not a pushover, but I admit my Beryl could roll. It was the wooden leg."
         "Yes, yes, I know a keg is made of wood. Stout barrel, eh?"
         "Oh, you've met her then. My sweetie pie."
         "I miss pie."
         "What'd ya say?"
         Just now. I missed it."
         "Me too, pie, I miss pie."
         "Oh at the home? I miss steak."
         "Mistake? What mistake?"
         "It was a mistake to take my teeth out. They're lost."
         "Lost? Are we lost?"
         "No, of course not. We're men. We don't get lost even when told to do so."
         "So, we found this park bench, eh? Hey, who's that?"
         "Who? Where? Dang, I forgot my glasses."
         "The guy walking towards us in white. He looks familiar."
         "Do we know him?"
         "You asking me? Is he waving? Are you waving back?"
         "I can't let him see I can't see."
         "Well, he's holding out your spectacles. And he's calling you Jimmy."
         "Harrumph, my name is James, not little Jimmy who can't mind his own things. How can I wear my glasses if someone's always snatching them up?"
         "Ya, mine are always getting scratched up, too. Looks like that young fellow has found us. His name is Chip."
         "I heard, I'm not deaf. Say, is it the same Chip we dipped out on before? How come he's not laughing?"
         "If you looked, you'd see his arms are crossed and so are his eyes. Yep, he's frowning. Are we missing something? Are we in hot water?"
         "Did someone report us as missing again? Anyone can see we're right here. Grown men can take care of themselves."
         "Right you are even if we do live in a care home. Er, um, it's around here somewhere."
         "Of course it is. We didn't wander willy-nilly. Say, are you feeling a bit peckish? We don't want the lunchroom ladies to worry."
         "Quite so. They do depend upon our presence. Who will they flirt with if we're not there?"
         "I do like my chair. Well Chip, lead the way. You can't call me late to dinner and all that."
         "Is Chip muttering? We're older, he needs to speak up." (446 words)
© Copyright 2019 SandraLynn Snowflake Slingin' (nannamom at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2198825-On-A-Park-Bench