The slightly too short pipes of his trousers creeped up as he sat next to her on the park bench. His messy hair and oversized shirt made him look like he was trying to define himself but didn’t quite succeed at it yet. Although this look is common for boys who’ve just hit puberty, it looked strange on this near middle-aged man.
The woman next too him was about the same age. She had been sitting there for about half an hour before he sat next too her, enjoying the warmth of the spring sun.
He rolled and unrolled the bottom of his shirt in nervousness. She wondered what he could be so nervous for.
If there had been someone near them they might have wondered what the relationship was between the two. Were they strangers, had they been lovers in a different time?
The silence between them seemed to give them two options. The first: asking the other what was going on. Risking to be seen as interrupting and rude, instead of caring.
The second option the second option was harder to endure than the first but had already started: keeping it silent. If was uncomfortably quite.
The silence seemed to swallow them as whole.
They sat there as time passed passed by. Oddly enough they both didn’t move. If there had been someone near them he might have questioned what was going on on that park bench. Maybe they both didn’t want to be the fist one to leave. Maybe he wanted to talk to her as badly as she wanted to talk too him.
The silence had already set and had lasted too long to be broken. If there had been someone near them they might have wondered how long this moment would last and how it would be broken. But as these two people were alone, this information is restricted to them