by Sophia Moon
Willow stared intently at the man sitting next to her on the damp grass of Timbleten Park. For some inexplicable reason, she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of him. He was not at all
the type of person you would expect to find at here.. Timbleten Park was normally reserved for modern era hippies, not respectable people like the stranger next to her. The man took a deep sigh and closed his eyes and laid down on the grass, consequently wetting his pinstripe suit and neatly gelled hair. Willow couldn’t help but watch him do so: Who was this man? Who would come to Timbleten Park in the middle of the day to sleep in their suit? She turned her gaze to the wedding band on his hand.
As if he could feel her stare, the stranger cautiously opened his eyes and glanced at the
girl sitting next to him. Caught off guard, she looked away bashfully. “Why are you looking at
me?” the man asked curiously.
“I don’t know, you just seemed out of place here.”
“In what way?” the man asked, slowly propping himself up.
“Well, what kind of person would wear such a formal suit to Timbleten Park?” Willow asked.
The man chuckled, “Well I’m coming from the hotel across the street and-”. There was a
long pause. The man furrowed his eyebrows, trying to find the right words, “and I’m an actor,”
he said at last.
Willow raised her bushy eyebrows, “An actor you say? That’s interesting. I’ve never met
an actor before. What kinds of films or shows have you filmed?”
“I’m working on a long term project right now. It is quite difficult, and not to mention
binding.”
”Wow, that seems serious. How tiring is it? I did hear that the entertainment industry is quite difficult.”
“Suffice it to say, there are almost no breaks and it gets more difficult as time
progresses,” the man replied. He observed the girl sitting across from his closely, a splash of
freckles on her nose evidenced her time sitting in the sun, and her bright red bob seemed to
scream rebelliousness. She couldn’t have been older than twenty two.
“Are you married?” asked the Willow, signaling to the man’s ring.
The man frowned, “Uh… it’s just for a role I’m playing. I’m supposed to be this woman’s
fiancé.”
“Cool. Sounds fun.”
“Not really,” the man said, fiddling with his wedding ring, “it should be though.”
“If it isn’t fun, why are you playing that role?” Willow asked as she began to brush off bits of grass from her jeans.
“I guess it’s because it’s my job.” The man replied. “Hey, where are you going?” He
asked.
Willow stood up, “For a job interview. Anyways, I think you should stop acting if it isn’t
fun for you. It sure doesn’t seem like it is.”
“Good luck…” the man said, disappointed that his companion of an enjoyable ten minutes was already leaving.
“It’s Willow. And goodbye …”
The man smiled, “Elon.”