A lonely bench, somewhere in the middle of nowhere, about a month ago, on one of beautiful days on the very beginning of August. It's Summer time, weather was good, people was around to enjoy the smell and cheerful of summer, but the bench was alone. I took a piece of this bench's story, save it as a memory of a life.
the same bench, about two years back, on one of beautiful days on the very end of September. It was a Fall time. The bench which is always alone, told me a snapshot of everybody's life, a piece of memory when it might be a time for hopeless and abandoned. I was astonished, it's so pure, nude and honest, but both painful and hopeful. I took this lovely view as a memory of the bench, hang it on my office's wall, and titled it "empty", cause it's empty and shown an emptiness.
Well, I 'm not melancholic, but now it's depending on how everybody will take a look of the bench's story. Fall will be replaced by Winter, and Winter will be cheered up by Spring and then Summer showed up, and so on. The bench will remain the same, showing a "full story" of life. Time's passing and something may stay as it was, as it is, or as it will be, just like a story of the bench.
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