Ari

"Who is he?... That man on the bench." She asked herself.

"Don't know. But it really doesn't matter to me."

" Well it's bound to matter to someone, So you best think of his story now."

So she did. And this was the story that she came up with.

His name is Arlington Scott. Ari for short. He's 28 years old, and was born and raised in southern California. After college he moved to England. Now he lives in London, but he has never liked big city's very much. So every one in a while, when his job gets to stressful, or the city air feels Smoggy and suffocating, he gets into his car and he drives.

The first Couple of times that he did this, he didn't go anywhere in particular. he just drove. But one day just driving wasn't enough. So he got out and walked. And he kept on walking till he got tired. And as if there had been someone following him who could read his mind, in the exact instance when his knees got weak, and the stitch in his side really started to ache, a bench appeared. It was rather plain bench that stood alone on a hill on the edge of some Down that he didn't care to find the name of.

So Ari sat. And as he watched the sun set into the west, he was reminded of his home, and of his childhood, and mostly of her. We wondered about Her. Was she still best friends with Lily McCoy? had her freckles ever gone away? And most of all, he wondered if she still loved him, and thought about him as much as he thought about her.

He didn't know, and he told himself regularly that he was not brave enough to find out.

So instead of finding her, he just came hear. He'd think of her as he watched the sun set then he would leave. He would go on with his life, and let her go on with hers. But every once in a while, if he saw a long sandy beach, or a dead tree covered in snow, or that exact same shade of teal, He would think of her, and he would smile.