They they sat. She was looking into his eyes, and trying to be strong for him. I don’t know how long they had been sitting there, but it looked like a while. I squatted down to feed the ducks in front of them.
Gail
“”Sitting here, I don’t think it is worth it, there is no value in this idea for me. Why would anyone want to live on a boat longterm?” she said.
“People like the unusual,”he said. “Who would want the suburban life with the mortgage and the lawn to mow every weekend. I don’t want that.”
“But, a boat? I am going to bench this idea.” She closed the book and started to pack up. “We agreed that we could have one veto. I don’t like to use it straight away, but I have to.”
The bench was glistening from the recent rainfall. The dew in the grass brought on a thick morning fog. Babies were in their strollers, dogs on their leads, and me. Sitting alone on a bench waiting, staring, and the water that had been caught on the webs in the grass.
There was a bench in the park, sitting between the playground and woods that stretched beyond eyesight. Alfred silently sat on it as he contemplated where she had gone. There was no trace of her anywhere, and he had begun to worry.
Elbows on my knees. Head in my hands. What was I thinking? Something about being more of a man. less of how I really felt. Make my words what I feel. say what I mean. Back on my feet. Off on a mission after my body maxes out on a power pump. Reborn in a master flow. cant get down on any drama. King once more.
i sat on a bench in the park this afternoon
tired, lifeless, sad
children were running about
playing, laughing, living
the sweet smell of autumn
drifted through the air
and i remembered
as i watched them now
that i too was once like them
i too and laughed and played
i smiled with these memories
then i rose from my bench
sat on an empty swing
and hurled myself into the air
back and forth
just like i did when i was young
and i remembered what it felt like
to be alive again
She sat still. It hadn’t been long since she had seen what she’d seen. Done what she’d done, but, for now, it was just enough to sit still and think of nothing. Just sitting on a bench.
Hannah
It took a long hike up the gorge cut deep into the Twelve Apostles the range running along the coast behind Table Mountain, but I did it and sweat soaked I reached the bench cut by nature into the solid rock, I sat and stared at the perfect sunset over the sparkling Atlantic ocean. Content.
A long slab of wood supported by an iron pipe. The wood looks worn like driftwood. It is empty and lonely. The feild is
X
the person on the bench was silent. a women with a beautiful beach hat but she was very odd looking. when i studied her she seemed absolutely possibly normal. she wore a short sundress that was orang and had her hair pulled up. the odd thing was it was snowing and she seemed not cold at all
dino
Sitting in the park with my back up against a fence, oh, wait a second, the song did not say, sitting on a bench. Long Beach removes benches so homeless people do not sleep on them. Makes it hard for seniors who need to sit down while wandering around downtown.
Alyce Rocco
It starts from a single meeting, in a small town overlooked in city maps. They meet in a bench in a park. The girl is holding a cup of hot chocolate with just enough cream to make it look like coffee, and the boy is holding up a magazine. They don’t speak, but they meet every week in this fate-like coincidence. Everything starts with small little occurences.
you find the nearest bus stop – you didn’t even know where any were in town despite living here for 10 years. you fail to notice the wet paint sign as the leaves scatter around your anxious feet. someone joins you in the restless wait for a diverting escape from the tiny place you’ve come to so convincingly hate. neither of you are aware that the only bus company until you reach two cities out ended business years ago. as to silly kids at the peak of their egos walk by snickering the both of you realize your storybook mistake. you decide to simply walk through the park as your backs dry, the weather is still decent. maybe you’ll grab an overly expensive fancy coffee at the library. the two of you will retire early in the morning having swapped countless passing stories that, by tomorrow, will have begun a new and refreshing adventure on which you will now embark. where it will take you none can tell.
don’t you love it when chance fate karma the stars find you. aren’t you fascinated at their irrefutable timing. the perfect surprise.
charmed.
“What happened” I asked, looking anxiousley at Cody. “I got benched! I can’t believe it. Coach actually benched me. Me!” I was shocked, Cody was the teams best player, sure he and Coach had their differences but there was a big game coming up. He couldn’t just bench Cody.
RedQueen
I laughed because this reminded me of Benjamin. I also call him Bensor or Ben German. He’s a funny guy and super talented. Just like his brothers. I have so much respect for them. I remember he pushed me onto a bench because I kept hugging him. The end.
We sat on the bench. Most people would talk, but we did nothing of the sort. We kind of just sat there, watching the cars fly by as the night stars floated over head. It was nice. Too bad the bench’s paint was fresh.
Sam missed the bench. He had tried so hard to reach it. All of his available brain power had been devoted to getting his body to the bench. Instead he was only able to reach the grass in front of it, where he collapsed on to all four limbs. Despite internal protest, all the contents of Sam’s stomach began shooting out of his mouth with violent force.
the way you make me feel-
i remember
the first time we actually started getting close
you and I
haah! i laid my head in your lap-the metal against my skin
it was dead winter, dead
and I stared at the clouds, and said what they looked like
you told me you never looked at clouds and said what they looked like
well, my dear-there’s a first for everything.
<3 old memories-you are dead.
I was sitting on a bench yesterday and it was so fun because my best friend was with me and we had such a great time! The bench was not as high as I thought it would be. Its colour was green and it was uncomfortable.
Panos
I’d love to be in love as an old lady someday sitting on a bench with someone who loves me and has loved me for a while…someone I have been with through life and love and loss and growth…a husband, a friend…someone. Sitting on a bench can be one of the most beautiful and simple things in life. its a bench and it’s holding you.
ally
i’ve never been good at giving people bad news. i had him meet me at the park, and we sat on a bench. fifteen minutes later i still hadn’t said anything. he had always been patient with me concerning these things in the past, but i could tell that now he was starting to get restless.
There was once a lonely bench. All the bench had ever wanted, was to loved. Loved, by some human’s butt. This bench wanted to be comfortable, he tried his very hardest, honestly, he did. But it just didn’t work. All the people who sat on him, would sit, then get right up. Until one day, a beautiful young girl was walking near the bench, and just as she was about to pass by, she stopped, and took a closer look at the bench. And the bench took a closer look at her. Now, the bench wasn’t exactly sure how she felt, but he knew that it was love at first sight.
Kathryn hates sitting on the bench, which is why she has to do something. Writing this book about her life is going to give her a chance to get her feelings out there. All of them, the positive and the horribly negative. The things he hasn’t told Regina or the girls or even John. Things only she knows. Things the world world is soon going to know.
I was sitting on a bench with my lover. We hugged, and complimented each other. Until the day had come, he asked me that we should take a break. But the strange thing was, I wasn’t sad at all. But whenever I looked at the bench, it reminded me of him and the happy things that I did with him. One day, the bench got removed. Thats when I got sad because our memories had been removed by a coffee shop. I was dreadful, it was time…..
Cutiee
A sterling-haired man sauntered into the park, humming tunelessly, and sat down on a faded bench by the old willow tree. The wood creaked as if to greet an old friend.
“Lovely day, isn’t it?”
He turned and spoke to no one in particular, carefully shaking the jacket from his thin shoulders. Something like dust spilled from its faded folds, distracting the butterflies in the air. Sunlight glinted through the particles.
“It’s a little too warm for this. Would you mind?”
There was no objection as he held out the coat, summer winds swirling voicelessly about him. For a moment it seemed as if the man had forgotten that he was alone, his arms held out expectantly, his eyes bright.
Then his hands were as empty as the seat beside him, and he smiled.
she sitting on the park bench, with all her worldly posessions. Happy. A healthy reminder that not all that glimmers is gold and that life is good without all the material posessions we seem to think will make us happy.
I sit on a bench
waiting for my thoughts to come
waiting for my love to come
waiting for my life to begin
and although i know i must stand up and walk around
in order for my thoughts to come
in order for my love to find me
in order to truly live my life
my legs refuse to straighten, stand, and begin
so for now, i will sit
waiting for all that won’t come to me on a bench
An angel and a man on a bench, in love but afraid to say it.
Katie
Your eyelashes brushed against me. The gentlest whisper of a kiss. I think about you everyday. In every moment you remain my one true want and need. Its cold here and I’m sitting outside on a bench. The icy wind wraps around me where there would normally be your warming embrace; a thought so welcome it warms me through to my very soul. The corners of my lips twitch upwards for a moment, the briefest remembrance of the feeling of your lips against them. If only I could hold that soft pressure there forever. I raise a glove to them. Trace where I only imagined I had felt your tenderness. There will be a day when I don’t sit here alone. I can already imagine each of our steps, moving in unison, a testament to how much our hearts are already intertwined.
Lili
the bench was made of wood- ornate flowers carved into every nook and cranny. The vintage look of it matched the vintage dress of the two individuals sitting on the beautiful bench- a man and a woman, in their late 20’s. they wore formal 60’s dress, and their seemingly delicately carved hands were intwined with each others.
lindsey rose
The bench was empty today. The old woman and man that usually sat there were absent. I wondered why they had missed their regular time. And then I realized just how much I had been relying on them to keep me alive. Their presence every day had given me some hope that I would live as long as them; live as long, with someone by my side.
a bench is a place where love and heart break both happen, its a place where tears fall and where friendships that last life times are made i love my life and i love my friends i really wish i could have one of those random happy moments on a bench or i could break up with my boring boyfriend on one.
“Bench, now!” She bellowed, her dark eyes snapping with anger. “I can’t believe you, Nella.” Her glare could’ve melted the protective gear that the athletic girl wore. “That’s an outlawed maneuver and you knew it! I can’t believe it!”
“You and me both, coach.” The Halfter frowned, readjusting her wrist guards. “Really, Nell, for shame.” There was a faint quirk of her lips and she turned away.
Nella shuffled to the bench and dropped down with an audible thunk to show her displeasure. She opted to study the game chart pinned on the corner of the dugout and pretended that nothing else mattered.
They’d never figure it out.
They’d never know.
She’d certainly never tell.
Only a female with Arsonne’s Gift could perform that trick–illegal or not. It would be just the thing to save their little world from the darker days ahead.
bench bench is a place where you sit and enjoy life also where old ladies sit and feed pigeons in old movies and where dramatic kisses and breakups happen once i saw a couple share a passionate kiss on a bench in my town and i was with my dad so it was awkward.
Emma
Bench press. I used to be able to do one. I felt strong and healthy and capable
until i got sick and now, I don’t believe I could bench press a fly.
What is a bench? Is it a park bench where all the lovers sit to neck and the birds come to poop? Is it the bench near a lake where people throw food to the ducks? Is it a bench that one would sit in on church? Is that what it is? Or is it something more? Can people just name a bench whatever they like? Is a bench not all what we agree it is? Can we change the meaning of a word if enough people agree that something else is a bench and not the bench before? Is this not all some philosophy? Linguistics? An apple? An orange? Are these not all things that we can change the meaning over by allowing the people to change the meaning?
They they sat. She was looking into his eyes, and trying to be strong for him. I don’t know how long they had been sitting there, but it looked like a while. I squatted down to feed the ducks in front of them.
“”Sitting here, I don’t think it is worth it, there is no value in this idea for me. Why would anyone want to live on a boat longterm?” she said.
“People like the unusual,”he said. “Who would want the suburban life with the mortgage and the lawn to mow every weekend. I don’t want that.”
“But, a boat? I am going to bench this idea.” She closed the book and started to pack up. “We agreed that we could have one veto. I don’t like to use it straight away, but I have to.”
The bench was glistening from the recent rainfall. The dew in the grass brought on a thick morning fog. Babies were in their strollers, dogs on their leads, and me. Sitting alone on a bench waiting, staring, and the water that had been caught on the webs in the grass.
There was a bench in the park, sitting between the playground and woods that stretched beyond eyesight. Alfred silently sat on it as he contemplated where she had gone. There was no trace of her anywhere, and he had begun to worry.
Elbows on my knees. Head in my hands. What was I thinking? Something about being more of a man. less of how I really felt. Make my words what I feel. say what I mean. Back on my feet. Off on a mission after my body maxes out on a power pump. Reborn in a master flow. cant get down on any drama. King once more.
i sat on a bench in the park this afternoon
tired, lifeless, sad
children were running about
playing, laughing, living
the sweet smell of autumn
drifted through the air
and i remembered
as i watched them now
that i too was once like them
i too and laughed and played
i smiled with these memories
then i rose from my bench
sat on an empty swing
and hurled myself into the air
back and forth
just like i did when i was young
and i remembered what it felt like
to be alive again
She sat still. It hadn’t been long since she had seen what she’d seen. Done what she’d done, but, for now, it was just enough to sit still and think of nothing. Just sitting on a bench.
It took a long hike up the gorge cut deep into the Twelve Apostles the range running along the coast behind Table Mountain, but I did it and sweat soaked I reached the bench cut by nature into the solid rock, I sat and stared at the perfect sunset over the sparkling Atlantic ocean. Content.
A long slab of wood supported by an iron pipe. The wood looks worn like driftwood. It is empty and lonely. The feild is
the person on the bench was silent. a women with a beautiful beach hat but she was very odd looking. when i studied her she seemed absolutely possibly normal. she wore a short sundress that was orang and had her hair pulled up. the odd thing was it was snowing and she seemed not cold at all
Sitting in the park with my back up against a fence, oh, wait a second, the song did not say, sitting on a bench. Long Beach removes benches so homeless people do not sleep on them. Makes it hard for seniors who need to sit down while wandering around downtown.
It starts from a single meeting, in a small town overlooked in city maps. They meet in a bench in a park. The girl is holding a cup of hot chocolate with just enough cream to make it look like coffee, and the boy is holding up a magazine. They don’t speak, but they meet every week in this fate-like coincidence. Everything starts with small little occurences.
I WRITE ON THE BENCH
I STAND AT THE BENCH
you find the nearest bus stop – you didn’t even know where any were in town despite living here for 10 years. you fail to notice the wet paint sign as the leaves scatter around your anxious feet. someone joins you in the restless wait for a diverting escape from the tiny place you’ve come to so convincingly hate. neither of you are aware that the only bus company until you reach two cities out ended business years ago. as to silly kids at the peak of their egos walk by snickering the both of you realize your storybook mistake. you decide to simply walk through the park as your backs dry, the weather is still decent. maybe you’ll grab an overly expensive fancy coffee at the library. the two of you will retire early in the morning having swapped countless passing stories that, by tomorrow, will have begun a new and refreshing adventure on which you will now embark. where it will take you none can tell.
don’t you love it when chance fate karma the stars find you. aren’t you fascinated at their irrefutable timing. the perfect surprise.
charmed.
“What happened” I asked, looking anxiousley at Cody. “I got benched! I can’t believe it. Coach actually benched me. Me!” I was shocked, Cody was the teams best player, sure he and Coach had their differences but there was a big game coming up. He couldn’t just bench Cody.
I laughed because this reminded me of Benjamin. I also call him Bensor or Ben German. He’s a funny guy and super talented. Just like his brothers. I have so much respect for them. I remember he pushed me onto a bench because I kept hugging him. The end.
We sat on the bench. Most people would talk, but we did nothing of the sort. We kind of just sat there, watching the cars fly by as the night stars floated over head. It was nice. Too bad the bench’s paint was fresh.
Sam missed the bench. He had tried so hard to reach it. All of his available brain power had been devoted to getting his body to the bench. Instead he was only able to reach the grass in front of it, where he collapsed on to all four limbs. Despite internal protest, all the contents of Sam’s stomach began shooting out of his mouth with violent force.
the way you make me feel-
i remember
the first time we actually started getting close
you and I
haah! i laid my head in your lap-the metal against my skin
it was dead winter, dead
and I stared at the clouds, and said what they looked like
you told me you never looked at clouds and said what they looked like
well, my dear-there’s a first for everything.
<3 old memories-you are dead.
I was sitting on a bench yesterday and it was so fun because my best friend was with me and we had such a great time! The bench was not as high as I thought it would be. Its colour was green and it was uncomfortable.
I’d love to be in love as an old lady someday sitting on a bench with someone who loves me and has loved me for a while…someone I have been with through life and love and loss and growth…a husband, a friend…someone. Sitting on a bench can be one of the most beautiful and simple things in life. its a bench and it’s holding you.
i’ve never been good at giving people bad news. i had him meet me at the park, and we sat on a bench. fifteen minutes later i still hadn’t said anything. he had always been patient with me concerning these things in the past, but i could tell that now he was starting to get restless.
There was once a lonely bench. All the bench had ever wanted, was to loved. Loved, by some human’s butt. This bench wanted to be comfortable, he tried his very hardest, honestly, he did. But it just didn’t work. All the people who sat on him, would sit, then get right up. Until one day, a beautiful young girl was walking near the bench, and just as she was about to pass by, she stopped, and took a closer look at the bench. And the bench took a closer look at her. Now, the bench wasn’t exactly sure how she felt, but he knew that it was love at first sight.
(Switched at Birth mircofic)
Kathryn hates sitting on the bench, which is why she has to do something. Writing this book about her life is going to give her a chance to get her feelings out there. All of them, the positive and the horribly negative. The things he hasn’t told Regina or the girls or even John. Things only she knows. Things the world world is soon going to know.
I was sitting on a bench with my lover. We hugged, and complimented each other. Until the day had come, he asked me that we should take a break. But the strange thing was, I wasn’t sad at all. But whenever I looked at the bench, it reminded me of him and the happy things that I did with him. One day, the bench got removed. Thats when I got sad because our memories had been removed by a coffee shop. I was dreadful, it was time…..
A sterling-haired man sauntered into the park, humming tunelessly, and sat down on a faded bench by the old willow tree. The wood creaked as if to greet an old friend.
“Lovely day, isn’t it?”
He turned and spoke to no one in particular, carefully shaking the jacket from his thin shoulders. Something like dust spilled from its faded folds, distracting the butterflies in the air. Sunlight glinted through the particles.
“It’s a little too warm for this. Would you mind?”
There was no objection as he held out the coat, summer winds swirling voicelessly about him. For a moment it seemed as if the man had forgotten that he was alone, his arms held out expectantly, his eyes bright.
Then his hands were as empty as the seat beside him, and he smiled.
she sitting on the park bench, with all her worldly posessions. Happy. A healthy reminder that not all that glimmers is gold and that life is good without all the material posessions we seem to think will make us happy.
the benches i always sit at are as cold as ice. their metal structures scream at me to get off of them…
I sit on a bench
waiting for my thoughts to come
waiting for my love to come
waiting for my life to begin
and although i know i must stand up and walk around
in order for my thoughts to come
in order for my love to find me
in order to truly live my life
my legs refuse to straighten, stand, and begin
so for now, i will sit
waiting for all that won’t come to me on a bench
An angel and a man on a bench, in love but afraid to say it.
Your eyelashes brushed against me. The gentlest whisper of a kiss. I think about you everyday. In every moment you remain my one true want and need. Its cold here and I’m sitting outside on a bench. The icy wind wraps around me where there would normally be your warming embrace; a thought so welcome it warms me through to my very soul. The corners of my lips twitch upwards for a moment, the briefest remembrance of the feeling of your lips against them. If only I could hold that soft pressure there forever. I raise a glove to them. Trace where I only imagined I had felt your tenderness. There will be a day when I don’t sit here alone. I can already imagine each of our steps, moving in unison, a testament to how much our hearts are already intertwined.
the bench was made of wood- ornate flowers carved into every nook and cranny. The vintage look of it matched the vintage dress of the two individuals sitting on the beautiful bench- a man and a woman, in their late 20’s. they wore formal 60’s dress, and their seemingly delicately carved hands were intwined with each others.
The bench was empty today. The old woman and man that usually sat there were absent. I wondered why they had missed their regular time. And then I realized just how much I had been relying on them to keep me alive. Their presence every day had given me some hope that I would live as long as them; live as long, with someone by my side.
a bench is a place where love and heart break both happen, its a place where tears fall and where friendships that last life times are made i love my life and i love my friends i really wish i could have one of those random happy moments on a bench or i could break up with my boring boyfriend on one.
“Bench, now!” She bellowed, her dark eyes snapping with anger. “I can’t believe you, Nella.” Her glare could’ve melted the protective gear that the athletic girl wore. “That’s an outlawed maneuver and you knew it! I can’t believe it!”
“You and me both, coach.” The Halfter frowned, readjusting her wrist guards. “Really, Nell, for shame.” There was a faint quirk of her lips and she turned away.
Nella shuffled to the bench and dropped down with an audible thunk to show her displeasure. She opted to study the game chart pinned on the corner of the dugout and pretended that nothing else mattered.
They’d never figure it out.
They’d never know.
She’d certainly never tell.
Only a female with Arsonne’s Gift could perform that trick–illegal or not. It would be just the thing to save their little world from the darker days ahead.
Pity she wasn’t going to tell them.
bench bench is a place where you sit and enjoy life also where old ladies sit and feed pigeons in old movies and where dramatic kisses and breakups happen once i saw a couple share a passionate kiss on a bench in my town and i was with my dad so it was awkward.
Bench press. I used to be able to do one. I felt strong and healthy and capable
until i got sick and now, I don’t believe I could bench press a fly.
The bench his stage, Central Park his audience. His boot propped atop the armrest, he fiddled a beautiful tune to an empty and endless cavern.
What is a bench? Is it a park bench where all the lovers sit to neck and the birds come to poop? Is it the bench near a lake where people throw food to the ducks? Is it a bench that one would sit in on church? Is that what it is? Or is it something more? Can people just name a bench whatever they like? Is a bench not all what we agree it is? Can we change the meaning of a word if enough people agree that something else is a bench and not the bench before? Is this not all some philosophy? Linguistics? An apple? An orange? Are these not all things that we can change the meaning over by allowing the people to change the meaning?
one@#
world the way back
half off-dwill the wh
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