May 06
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Park Bemch encounter

Madie Halvorsen, age 12

ADL School

Essex Junction, Vermont

NRG 3 Humanities (Blue)

Contest #31- as its late consider this as general writing

    Dear W.,

Oh, how I miss you. It seems like forever ago when we last met, on that dark, dreary day. The birds weren’t singing, but we both had harmonies in our heart. It was at the park, the wind howling with the constant drawl of the raindrops.

You were sitting on the old wooden bench, lost in thought as your bespectacled face dripped with rain. I sat by you, intrigued by the immense quiet that surrounded the air. You looked up at me, and my face was on fire.

Your eyes were like the ground; deep, solid, and firm.

They scanned my face with confusion, flowing not only from the rain, but from your hidden past.

I had never really known the meaning of ‘hi,’ before it was muttered under your breath. It was given meaning. It was given life.

We sat on that bench together, three feet apart, but leaning heavily against each other.
Dear S.,

I feel quite the same, as our meeting was brief, but important.

That day, I crawled back to my flat, grunting as the heavy door protested against the wind. The wood was cool, and spattered with raindrops.

Much like my mind at the moment, my flat was scattered with objects, ranging from lost socks, to large diagrams. At my creaky desk sat a pen and paper, wrinkled from my thin, loopy scrawl.

My chair had never felt so welcoming, so warm. Yet, later I found that my room was below freezing. The tea I had left out from breakfast was frozen solid.

I grasped the string that dangled from the ceiling, and wrenched my dusty map from the box. You know which one I’m talking about.

    I stared at that map for hours, glancing at the park.
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