The Lonely Strangers
Elias Ashley Davis
The lonely strangers sat side by side on the secluded park bench in
silence. Neither of them could think of anything to say to the other.
Finally, one of them started to say something, but stopped. The other,
reacting automatically to this attempt to make a connection, also tried
to say something, then stopped. They both sat there for a few more
minutes in silence. Finally, both of
their faces lit up as they started to say something at the same time,
but being abashed at the embarrassing juxtaposition, they both stopped.
Another short interlude passed. Then what seemed like an epiphany
occurred to both of them simultaneously. They looked at each other,
opened their mouths as if to say something, and then stopped;
embarrassed that they had both shared an epiphany at the same moment.
After another long pause, one of them took a deep breath in preparation,
looked the other one in the eye, and finally did say something...
something very large and incredible, and pontifical, and important, with
such profound verbosity that the words were deadly and beautiful. The
other, taken aback by this sudden outpouring, almost said something...
but then someone else showed up and said something that just killed it,
so the two lonely strangers just continued to sit there, saying nothing
and looking like a couple of retards.