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This bench seems mysteriously erected just for me. Who would find a need to sit here, just here under this tree, unless they, too, had no place else to go for a short window of time?
There are, however, other places to go. I could be anywhere within walking distance. None of them, save for this bench, offer a place to sit.
I could return to the drug store and meditate over more nail colors in little glass bottles that I’ll never purchase. Or I could browse the aisles of the grocery store across the street.
It’s a small store, sized appropriately for this small town, one of a handful of businesses in a strip mall evidently called Fort Hills Shopping Center. I’ve walked these streets looking for a place to be, and the Fort Hills Shopping Center is the most remarkable of destinations.
For one thing, the property owners didn’t hold back on the landscaping. The sign itself is surrounded in colorful flowers, so that you might mistake the strip mall for a botanical garden. Secondly, it’s the only place in the area where you can go for a workout, pickup your prescriptions, and do your grocery shopping without moving your car.
There’s even a bowling alley. It’s looming down at the end of the parking lot, looking admittedly desolate. It might not even be open. Still, if I had more time to kill, I would look into a game. But a game would take too long.
What I do have time for is a stroll through the grocery store. When I’m actually in the supermarket to shop, I want to get it over with. But, on my leisurely stroll, I can take my time to discover new snack products in all their eye-catching glory. S’mores Goldfish and the like. Cotton candy frozen pastries. Curious pudding cups.
No, I don’t know why this bench is here, although it is accompanied by a matching black metal trash can. That, and the way that it’s placed so thoughtfully under this low-hanging tree, makes it seem quite intentional. It’s certainly the most appealing — and as a matter of fact, the only — bench to be found.
It doesn’t look like a bus stop, or anything marked. And by the way drivers are looking at me sitting here, I’d wager they’re not used to this seat being occupied. The small number of people that have passed on the sidewalk — a man on a bike and a man on foot — looked like they never had any intention of stopping.
I have 28 more minutes to sit. Now that I think about it, a game of bowling might have been just the thing to pass the time, if I’d gone straight away. But then, if I hadn’t ended up here, who would have sat on this bench? Someone, surely, maybe sooner than I expect, would have arrive here and thought to themselves just how convenient and random this seat appears to be.