Ficly

The Park Bench

The wood was now rotten, the once golden metal frame was long since rusted and black. The groan given off when someone sat on it scared off most looking for somewhere to rest for a while, yet this was the only bench that Juliet ever sat at. She had been sitting on this bench every single day now without fail for twenty seven years.

Much like the bench, Juliet’s appearance reflected the passing of more years than she cared to admit. Her once full chestnut brown hair was now tired, gray and thinning. Her skin was now weathered and cracked. In stark contrast, her brilliant blue eyes shone as strong and energetic as they ever had. Juliet had not been sitting here without reason, she was waiting for something or someone.

An element of eccentricity surrounded her, those who frequented the park and saw her often thought her to be a little mad. Juliet of course knew how people saw her but the days when those thoughts bothered her were long since passed. Now she quite enjoyed the mystery she created.

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