It’s time for this weeks Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers .
This week I’m sitting in a hotel in Cuscu, Peru struggling to write from my phone. The wifi isn’t allowing me to upload this weeks image so I’m obliged to describe it to you.
It’s a park bench that’s had the woodwork painted bright red.
The Red Bench
We all like something to be special. To stand out. To be remarkable or unique.
We shun the ordinary, the mundane or the commonplace.
So if something risks being ordinary we make sure to render it unique in one way or the other.
An ordinary kiss gets linked to an extraordinary event and is elevated to the best and most romantic kiss ever.
An ordinary scrap of paper becomes priceless by who it belonged to and what that person wrote upon it.
The same, of course, holds true for this humble park bench over there, almost identical in every way to every other park bench in the park.
The day it was eased into place, a little girl was playing nearby and came over to watch.
“Paint it red Mister”, she pleaded.
To this day the park attendant still doesn’t know why he gave into her demand and on a whim, painted it red. All the other benches were brown after all.
So now it’s known as Jennifer’s Red Bench and everybody wants to rest on it awhile.