MAN SITTING ON BENCH READING A NEWSPAPER  by David McCabe Sep 2012

Most evenings, after work, I walk over to the city park and go for a jog or most likely a quick walk. Need to get the weight down. I’m also getting on in years sixty last birthday. The park is about four miles square, full of flowers, trees and benches. I sometimes come across courting couples having a snog behind the bushes or the odd tramp shuffling around.

One particular evening mid September with a clear sky, a light breeze blowing with birds singing everywhere, I walked into the park.  The ducks on the shallow pond were as usual being harassed by the aggressive seagulls -  something should be done about them-.  I sat on my usual bench to change my shoes. Proud of my shoes I am, all leather, cost a lot they did. There was a man, looking quite scruffy, relaxed on a bench across the path with his upper body hidden by the Financial Times. Strange, I thought, the Financial Times at this time of day.

As I stood up he crossed his legs, showing the sole of his shoe with a large hole in it and a piece of cardboard hiding the sole of his foot. Ever cautious I placed my leather shoes in a plastic bag and hid them in a bush behind the bench and  started my walk. Feeling quite lively I started to jog a bit, scattering a flock of aggressive seagulls - get back to the ocean you vermin -   and trotted around the park enjoying the wind in my face.  After a short while I settled into a fast walk. Wonder about that guy reading the paper, his shoes certainly needed a repair. He looked a bit scruffy - but reading the FT!

Walking briskly with arms pumping I rounded a large flower bed to find a man dressed in a well worn suit with a scraggy beard shuffling toward me. As we passed he gave me a smile, touched the rolled up pink newspaper to his forehead in greeting and exited from the park. Must be the guy on the bench I thought.  Panting a bit I reached my bench and gathered the plastic bag from the bushes. In the gathering dusk I sat down feeling very satisfied with my self, another long walk completed.

That’s strange, I thought, this shoe feels odd. What’s this bit of cardboard doing in it?