Ficly

The Park Bench

Every day an old man sat in the exact same spot on a park bench observing all that was around him. Never wavering or deterred to return to the bench each day, no matter what the circumstances were. A wondrous sycamore tree towered over the bench offering our old fellow protection from whatever weather may be present at the time. No one ever approached the kind looking elder, for they did not want to disturb his apparent sense of undying serenity that he displayed when sitting on the old park bench. Birds often stopped to acknowledge his presence with an air of seeming reverence towards the man. Finally one day a rather inquisitive young child enjoying her day in the park walked up to the man and quietly asked him, “Sir, what are you doing?”
The old man’s stare hovered to the girl, “Pardon me, but I did not quite hear, could you please speak once more?” his eyes shifted to focus on the girl’s mouth.
“Sir, what are you doing?” she asked again.
“My child, I am listening to the world.”

The old man was deaf.

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