It's Been a While
by Beau Cameron
A little boy sat on a park bench, licking an ice cream cone. His blonde curls framed his pudgy face, falling into bright blue eyes. Kicking his feet, he sat on the park bench. Lapis sat beside him.
“Are you enjoying that ice cream, bud?” She asked, watching him with a smile.
His curls bounced as he nodded vigorously. “It’s mint chip! My favorite.”
“Better eat it quickly.” She reclined against the bench, letting her eyes wander. “You don’t want it to melt.”
“Whatever, you’re not my mom.”
Whipping her head around, Lapis stared at the teenager beside her. His blonde hair was buzzed, his face covered by a black hoodie. He hunched over his ice cream, glaring at the mint droplets coating the cone.
“That doesn’t mean I can’t look out for you.”
He snorted, looking away. “As if you’d care enough for that.”
“But I do,” Lapis insisted. Her bangs fell in her face, and when she had brushed them away, a young man sat next to her.
“It’s human nature to be selfish.” His hair was longer now, but slicked away from his forehead. Ink stained his forearm and his fingers were wrapped in bandages. “That’s not your fault.”
“You can’t be so negative.”
He shrugged, avoiding her gaze. The ice cream, mostly liquid now, sloshed in his hand. “What else is there to be?”
“Happy?”
A couple rode by on their bikes, their laughter carried by the wind. Lapis’s gaze was drawn to them. When she looked again, the boy had transformed into a grown man.
“That’s not an easy thing to be.” His back was straight, his tattoo covered by the stiff creases of a suit jacket. His fingers were swollen. Glasses perched on the edge of his nose.
Angling her body towards him (she wouldn’t lose him this time, she wouldn’t) her mouth pulled into a thin line. “That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.”
“How?”
“I--” She paused, drawing in on herself. “I don’t know.”
She blinked, and an old man sat beside her. His hair was gray and thin, only a few wisps growing from his head, spotted with age. His face sagged, deep crevices and canyons marring his once glowing skin. His blue eyes were glassy, unseeing.
“That’s the pickle, isn’t it?” His laughter stuttered into a cough, and he struggled to regain his breath. “You spend your whole life trying to try, and then realize you’ve never done anything worthwhile.”
“Is that what you think? That it’s all meaningless?”
“Depends on who you ask.”
“I’m asking you.” She turned away from him, letting her gaze wander over the park. The trees were bare.
“Age doesn’t bring wisdom my dear.” His voice was barely a whisper. “It comes with experience.”
“I guess you shouldn’t have spent so long here then, huh?” Her laughter sounded forced, even to her own ears. She turned to him.
The bench was empty.
“Are you enjoying that ice cream, bud?” She asked, watching him with a smile.
His curls bounced as he nodded vigorously. “It’s mint chip! My favorite.”
“Better eat it quickly.” She reclined against the bench, letting her eyes wander. “You don’t want it to melt.”
“Whatever, you’re not my mom.”
Whipping her head around, Lapis stared at the teenager beside her. His blonde hair was buzzed, his face covered by a black hoodie. He hunched over his ice cream, glaring at the mint droplets coating the cone.
“That doesn’t mean I can’t look out for you.”
He snorted, looking away. “As if you’d care enough for that.”
“But I do,” Lapis insisted. Her bangs fell in her face, and when she had brushed them away, a young man sat next to her.
“It’s human nature to be selfish.” His hair was longer now, but slicked away from his forehead. Ink stained his forearm and his fingers were wrapped in bandages. “That’s not your fault.”
“You can’t be so negative.”
He shrugged, avoiding her gaze. The ice cream, mostly liquid now, sloshed in his hand. “What else is there to be?”
“Happy?”
A couple rode by on their bikes, their laughter carried by the wind. Lapis’s gaze was drawn to them. When she looked again, the boy had transformed into a grown man.
“That’s not an easy thing to be.” His back was straight, his tattoo covered by the stiff creases of a suit jacket. His fingers were swollen. Glasses perched on the edge of his nose.
Angling her body towards him (she wouldn’t lose him this time, she wouldn’t) her mouth pulled into a thin line. “That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.”
“How?”
“I--” She paused, drawing in on herself. “I don’t know.”
She blinked, and an old man sat beside her. His hair was gray and thin, only a few wisps growing from his head, spotted with age. His face sagged, deep crevices and canyons marring his once glowing skin. His blue eyes were glassy, unseeing.
“That’s the pickle, isn’t it?” His laughter stuttered into a cough, and he struggled to regain his breath. “You spend your whole life trying to try, and then realize you’ve never done anything worthwhile.”
“Is that what you think? That it’s all meaningless?”
“Depends on who you ask.”
“I’m asking you.” She turned away from him, letting her gaze wander over the park. The trees were bare.
“Age doesn’t bring wisdom my dear.” His voice was barely a whisper. “It comes with experience.”
“I guess you shouldn’t have spent so long here then, huh?” Her laughter sounded forced, even to her own ears. She turned to him.
The bench was empty.