5th Avenue of the Lonely Park

"Of course, I will be there. Don't worry, honey," the lady moved her lips, forming clear words, allowing me to read them.

I didn't know the answer at the other side of the phone, all I listened was silence, but the lady, she didn't like what she heard. Her too small nose wrinkled in a very displeased gesture, her dark brown eyebrows furrowed together while she ran her pink long nails through her equally dark brown hair.

Very displeased, indeed.

Yes, the lady could use some silence too.

I moved my attention from the irritated and now boring lady to a gentleman not very far from her. The gentleman didn't look much nicer either, with his dark expensive suit, dirty blonde hair, square and perfectly chiseled jaw and straight nose, he was the personification of money. He was also the personification of fury and power, and the perfect example for the words handsome, too.

Too bad he didn't know the meaning of silence either.

"I don't care what you have to do to get it!" the gentleman almost screamed at the phone. I knew this, not because I heard him, I didn't; but because his thin lips formed an even more thin line before he opened them wide to mouth very furious words.

I also knew then that, whoever was at the other side of then phone, would do as he said.

Taking a deep, steady breath, the gentleman moved his long fingers through his blonde hair, messing what used to be perfectly styled hair strands. His ear never left the phone in his hand while he heard carefully what the poor victim at the other side of the line had to say.

But what I had to say was that messy looked good on him. I didn't understand why people wanted perfection so badly sometimes.

And to be honest, I didn't understand why people wanted to talk so much all the time, either. Talking seemed to be a very useless waste of time when you could always show them what you really meant to say.

Or maybe I just didn't understand people at all.

The gentleman, I realized, wasn't at the phone anymore, but sitting with his elbows on his knees and his face hidden behind his strong hands, rubbing at it as if all his problems would disappear with that simple gesture.

He looked angry, but more strangely, he looked lonely.

I stood from the bank I was sitting on just a few lamps from him. Carefully looking from one side to the other for the usual reckless cyclist practicing on the park and deeming it to be safe, and crossed the path to were the gentleman was, two banks at the right from the boring and irritated lady from earlier.

The woman still didn't look nicer, but, I noticed, that she, for once, didn't seem lonely -or angry-, anymore.

Surprisingly, the gentleman didn't look up to see who was the person who sat next to him, but he did spoke angry words I never heard. The wind took them away for me.

Gently, I tapped his shoulder, trying to bring his attention from the poor innocent floor to the equally innocent me.

At least the floor won't suffer now, I thought. He seamed to be very intent on making someone suffer for his problems. It might as well take the poor pavement place.

Yet, he didn't look up.

I huffed, a little angry with the man for ignoring me -since I couldn't precisely call him a gentleman now, could I?-, scoot closer on the bank to him and tapped him more firmly on the shoulder.

Yes, that would do. He wouldn't ignore me now, speaking angry words I could nor wanted to hear.

But how wrong was I.

He did ignore me, and he did speak more angry words.

Words, I was sure, weren't very polite, or nice, for that matter.

Stubborn, aren't we. Well, so was I.

Scooting even closer to him, so close that my legging covered thighs were touching his and his strong spicy scent reached my nose, I tapped him even more firmly on his hard shoulder.

There you go!

This time my tactic worked because, not five seconds after I touched my slim delicate finger against his impeccable suit, the gentleman raised his head with a brusque and fast gesture. His dark blue angry eyes focused on me, and I raised my chin defiantly.

The gentleman's eyes went wide for a few seconds, realizing, indeed, that I was not a beggar how, I was very sure, he thought I was.

His shocked didn't last long, though, being quickly replaced for irritation.

"What do you want?" he mouthed brusquely.

I moved my hands in front of my face, gesturing my answer to the gentleman, "Nothing, I just thought you needed company," and smiled sweetly.

The gentleman frowned in confusion, clearly, not understanding a word I said. I raised my right hand to him, telling him to wait, and with the other reached for my electronic board inside my purse. When I found what I was looking for, a wide grin of satisfaction reached my lips. Putting my hand down, I grabbed the board, removed the tactile pencil from it and wrote in it before showing it to him, the grin never leaving my face.

The gentleman eyes went from the board with the word 'hi' written on it, back to my face before moving to the board again and returning to my face. Realization settled into the deep blue pools, surprises and... guilt?

Well, that's new.

Could be he was sorry for saying bad things to me? The would be a little stupid since I actually never heard them. Then, again, maybe that was what made him feel guilty. But why? People were so confusing sometimes.

Completely oblivious to my inner doubts, the gentleman gently grabbed the board and wrote 'Hi' back to me.

I frowned, looking at the board. Why would he erase what I wrote to write the same thing again? He could have just written something different, or keep what I wrote and show it back to me.

Strange people.

I'm sure children have more common sense than adults. Yes, I'm sure they do. That was why children and I got along so fine.

The gentleman, clearly misinterpreting my reaction, erase the word again, only to replace it with an 'I'm sorry'.

Or maybe he didn't misinterpret it and it was apologizing for having less common sense than a child. Either way, it wasn't his fault.

I took the board from him and wrote 'it's ok,' before showing it back to him, smiling.

He smiled back.

Good Lord, was he handsome when he smiled? He should definitely smile more often and grump less than never.

Erasing the board again, I wrote, 'I'm Julia.'

He grabbed the pencil, and without taking the board from my hands, he erased my name and added his.

I read and smile.

Apparently, we were slowly improving the common-sense issue.

Erasing everything else, but his name, I added new words before showing it back to him, 'nice to meet you, Alessio. Welcome to 5th Avenue Park.'

'Thank you,' he mouthed.

'You're welcome,' I signaled, and I thought that, that time, he did understand what I meant.

Alessio smiled once more, his eyes trickling at the corners while his dimples showed deep in his cheeks.

Wow, I thought, and without even thinking, I turned the board back to him with new words written.

'Finders, keepers,' it read.

Alessio's eyes opened wide, in surprise, I hoped, before he mouthed, 'What does that mean?'

'It means now I get to keep you,' I wrote for him.

And that was precisely what I did the following years, I kept him silent, I kept him happy, I kept him company, and I kept him loved.

***

Hello there. This story and poem were written 5 years ago as a part of my literature class assignment. Hope you like it and it's not too poorly written.

XO,
Dee