Fly on the Wall “The Park”

Michael didn’t mean to step on the picture frame. He didn’t even notice it was there. He was walking. Walking through the park – on a clear path, mind you – and crack. Picture frame stepped on. Glass broken. Frame… well, the frame was still intact, at least.

Michael does not know who the picture frame belongs to. He tilts his head and makes a “huh” sound when he realizes this. Because, you see, he had been so caught up in the fact that there was suddenly a picture frame in his clear path that he cracked but didn’t totally destroy that he completely forgot to consider who it might belong to.

Michael looks around. The park is empty. He tilts his head back and laughs. Of course the park is empty. It’s two in the morning; not many people are in the park this early. What was he thinking?

Michael pauses. He stops laughing. What was he thinking? He’s uneasy, now. He looks around. Afraid of the shadows and corners of the park. Afraid of who the picture frame might belong to. Afraid because he does not remember walking to the park.

Michael lifts his foot. Somehow, during all of this thinking and realizing and being afraid, he hadn’t moved. The glass is strangely quiet as it falls on top of itself, and Michael places his foot firmly on the ground. He looks at the frame, but the glass has settled all over itself and he can’t make out if there’s a picture or words or something more exciting in the frame. He will have to move the glass.

Michael does not want to move the glass. In fact, Michael does not want to be in the park right now. He does not want to not know how he walked here. He does not want to know how a picture frame ended up in his clear walking path. He does not want to know who the picture frame belongs to.

Michael bends down and touches the frame.

 

 

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