Carpe Diem
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
11
Views:
3,089
Reviews:
12
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
11
Views:
3,089
Reviews:
12
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
A Rest in the Park
A/N: Just something that struck me for no reason whatsoever. It's kinda short, I know, but it really just serves as an introduction. Please tell me what you think and if you'd like to see more.
A Rest in the Park
He had never noticed it before. The surrounding landscape. He never had time. But for the moment—the next five minutes, to be exact—he had the opportunity to just sit and relax and take in the view. There were others in the park: families, children, the whole usual spectrum. And there he was, sitting on a bench in the middle of the park. He very rarely had a spare moment, the rest of his time being divided between work and school to the point that he never really had any time to himself. So, for this one fleeting moment, he indulged himself that one luxury usually denied.
—Here you go, honey. Happy anniversary.
It was spring. The flowers were blooming and everything around him was green and colorful and full of life and energy in such a way the he could almost feel the energy, the life flowing from the flora into himself. Petals swirled about in the breeze, dancing along as they slowly, effortlessly glided towards the green, green grass spread out in a great lawn below, between the lake and the forest from which they originated. Sweetly, gingerly, gracefully, one landed on the placid surface of the lake, its pink brightness contrasting with the serene azure of the lake.
—Mommy! Mommy! Look at this!
Time seemed to slow to a crawl. The moving, living creatures about him froze in time, solely for his viewing pleasure. The mother attending to her son; the father playing catch with his children; the couple sitting on a blanket on the grass. The birds singing in the air, in the trees; the bees busily bustling about; the dog barking at his owner to please throw the stick again.
—Good catch son, now throw it to your sister.
Footsteps, buzzing, splashing. A cacophony of sounds; an atonal symphony. He was awash in sensations altogether foreign to his way of life. And yet, he had never felt more alive. And then he saw him. Jogging along the path, dog on leash. Athletic build, dark hair. Sweat dripping down his forehead, his neck, staining his shirt, glistening off his legs. Their eyes made contact: brief, subtle. Surely the other hadn't even noticed?
—Here you go, boy! Fetch!
Those eyes; so captivating, mesmerizing, enrapturing. The ocular contact, though ephemeral, stuck out in his mind. And yet, would he ever see him again? Not likely. At least, not in a city this large. He could still fantasize, though. This man, this object of his musings, this complete stranger continued with his jogging down the path, out of sight. His legs moving rhythmically up down up down with a vibrant energy. Everything about him seemed alive.
—Beautiful weather today, don't you think?
And then his time was up. He had class to get to, and work after that, and time was money, and money was what made the world go 'round. In a quick motion, he removed himself from his bench and made his way in the opposite direction the jogger had taken. And he was certain that he would never see the other man again.
A Rest in the Park
He had never noticed it before. The surrounding landscape. He never had time. But for the moment—the next five minutes, to be exact—he had the opportunity to just sit and relax and take in the view. There were others in the park: families, children, the whole usual spectrum. And there he was, sitting on a bench in the middle of the park. He very rarely had a spare moment, the rest of his time being divided between work and school to the point that he never really had any time to himself. So, for this one fleeting moment, he indulged himself that one luxury usually denied.
—Here you go, honey. Happy anniversary.
It was spring. The flowers were blooming and everything around him was green and colorful and full of life and energy in such a way the he could almost feel the energy, the life flowing from the flora into himself. Petals swirled about in the breeze, dancing along as they slowly, effortlessly glided towards the green, green grass spread out in a great lawn below, between the lake and the forest from which they originated. Sweetly, gingerly, gracefully, one landed on the placid surface of the lake, its pink brightness contrasting with the serene azure of the lake.
—Mommy! Mommy! Look at this!
Time seemed to slow to a crawl. The moving, living creatures about him froze in time, solely for his viewing pleasure. The mother attending to her son; the father playing catch with his children; the couple sitting on a blanket on the grass. The birds singing in the air, in the trees; the bees busily bustling about; the dog barking at his owner to please throw the stick again.
—Good catch son, now throw it to your sister.
Footsteps, buzzing, splashing. A cacophony of sounds; an atonal symphony. He was awash in sensations altogether foreign to his way of life. And yet, he had never felt more alive. And then he saw him. Jogging along the path, dog on leash. Athletic build, dark hair. Sweat dripping down his forehead, his neck, staining his shirt, glistening off his legs. Their eyes made contact: brief, subtle. Surely the other hadn't even noticed?
—Here you go, boy! Fetch!
Those eyes; so captivating, mesmerizing, enrapturing. The ocular contact, though ephemeral, stuck out in his mind. And yet, would he ever see him again? Not likely. At least, not in a city this large. He could still fantasize, though. This man, this object of his musings, this complete stranger continued with his jogging down the path, out of sight. His legs moving rhythmically up down up down with a vibrant energy. Everything about him seemed alive.
—Beautiful weather today, don't you think?
And then his time was up. He had class to get to, and work after that, and time was money, and money was what made the world go 'round. In a quick motion, he removed himself from his bench and made his way in the opposite direction the jogger had taken. And he was certain that he would never see the other man again.