“What would you say,” my father asks, “To a walk in the park?” He is already standing nigh the opened door, a windbreaker draped over both arms. I smile halfheartedly. There cannot be a better way to spend an early afternoon.
The park is just opposite us, on the far side of the four-lane street. It doesn’t seem that it’s so busy, today. Families are returning from the chapel, walking home in their Sunday Bests. The scent of coffee from a little café spills into the air. Sometimes, I ask my father if we can stop for a cup. He only laughs and tugs at my long ponytail. The answer, of course, is “No!” Today, I am silent. My eyes are turned up to a bird that is balanced on an electrical wire. It is a tightrope walker, almost, just sitting there and chirping, as all birds will. “The coast is clear,” calls my father. We pass on a crosswalk while the light is green.
Grosvenor Square is and has always been the centerpiece in the whole of London. I love its park, an open garden. We cross into it and under the stone archway. Neither of us thought to take a blanket nor basket along, but we are up for a picnic. I choose a vacant bench in the shade of two trees. Here is a place that I have been maybe two dozen times yet this Spring. It is not what it was long ago. A picture hangs in the schoolhouse’s hall of the same the park, the same garden, in a long-gone century that is not my own. This place has come a long way, I’ve been told.
“Are you hungry?” I inquire.
My father turns and raises his brow. “I didn’t think to bring food, Lindsey. I’m sorry.”
I rise from my seat. The trees are great and long, with apples dripping from their limbs. I pluck one, still ripely green. “Food,” I explain. “It needs washing, maybe. But we can fix that, ourselves.”
We soak our apples under the stone fountain's clear water. Copper pennies line the bottom, sunken beneath a shallow reservoir. If I had a coin in my pocket, I would add it in and cast a wish. Today, I have none. The apple’s juice is sticky-sweet. I wipe my chin across the backside of one hand. Only I have started mine.
My father is still now. His eyes are glazed over as he asks, “Dost thou love life?” I only stare at him, confused. I cannot recognize his tone; it is though he is reading a line from a book of poems. “Dost thou love life?” He repeats. “Then do not squander time; for that is the stuff life is made of.”
“Benjamin Franklin,” I muse. He said those words, himself. It is a quote that is stitched in a pillow sham, back at home. It is a lesson of life.
“Yes, that is correct. He said those words.” He scrapes a twig across the tabletop. I catch the distant look in my father’s eyes. “Life is so very short.”
I know that he is right. The day is young but it will cease before my eyes. Life does precisely that. When we return to the strip of flats and to our own, I stop on the porch’s lowest step. I can see the park from here. There it is, hunched over street cars and contained by its wrought iron gate. Grosvenor Square isn’t the only thing that has changed. Time has its way of doing that, and it will change us all. I steal one last breath of the coffee-tinged air and smile. A breeze stirs and shakes the branches of our mulberry bush. A stray leaf whisks over my head and I stretch out my palm to catch it. Sometimes, holding onto the moment is the best thing that any of us can do. Surely, we’ve succeeded, though. We’ve remembered not to squander our time. Throwing a picnic in Mayfair’s finest park is nothing wasted. Come tomorrow, I just might propose that we do the same, and I shall have to take a blanket, next time.
Author notes
I personally love Grosvenor Square at London. I have always thought it would be a beautiful place to live, and if you have ever seen it, you'll appreciate this story all the more. I hope that you find it nice.
A contest entry
- Beginning Sentance by VioletStrike.
110 points, ended January 2, 2007, 20 entries
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Short and Sweet! by tacobell4me08.
305 points, ended February 16, 2007, 19 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest
What do you think of this story, and in what ways does it lack?
Comments
1 - 10 of 10
-
Beautiful
What a delightful story. It is a bit confusing with "smile halfheartedly," then, "There cannot --- spend an afternoon." The two sentences seem to conflict. After that point there is certainly no conflict other than my being unhappy it ended so quickly. Well done and thank you for a lovely read.
beginning: 4, language: 4, plot: 5, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 4.
-
Great!
I loved the discription! This was qute, short and sweet! This was well written. I liked the diction used here. I also like the usage of diolog every now and then. This was origional. I could picture everything that was happening. This was a great read.
Thancks for entering my contest.
Good luck!
-
Wow the way you described the whole seen makes for a pretty good brochure. Plus it piqued my interest to the point of also looking it up at google^^
-
-
Thanks, heh.
-
-
I had to Google "Grosvenor Square." It looks lovely. The story was lovely, as well. I admire anyone who can pull off a story written in present tense. I liked the way you portrayed the relationship between Lindsey and her father, as well. Nothing dramatic, just a little bit of life. I can't offer much advice on the story itself.
To grammatical matters, however... Just kidding, you weren't bad there, either. I just have a few nitpicks because that's what I do.
“What would you say,” my father asks, “To a walk in the park?” -- "To" should be lowercase.
"walking home in their Sunday Bests" -- I don't think "bests" should be capitalized. If you know otherwise, leave it, but I can't think of any reason it should.
“The coast is clear,” is my father’s call. -- I think it'd be better if you replaced "is my father’s call" with "my father calls." Likewise, "'Food,' is my explanation." to "'Food,' I explain." It's usually better to use fewer words. -
-
Funny that you'd mention the "Sunday Best" issue, because I was just debating over whether or not to capitalize the "b". I did a search on ask.com with the phrase as a quote and it come up half-and-half. And thank you for your feedback!
-
-
I have never been, but now that I have read how beautiful it is I want to. Although getting across the pond my be out of my reach. Thank you for sharing this with us.
Oh and the story was wonderful. Descriptions were good and the details made it realistic.
~*Brooke*~ -
Very nice! I've been to Grosvenor Square this past summer. It's so beautiful. I love London more than any place in the world. Very nice job!
-
-
Isn't, though? And thank you, and thanks to Starless, too.
-
-
Impressive
Bravo, this is an adorable story.beginning: 4, language: 4, plot: 4, ending: 4, dialog: 4, characters: 4.
Adding your comment:
1 - 10 of 10
