Benchdweller (A Rewrite)

Benchdweller – As a wandering star.

There once upon a time was a bench in front of a shopping-centre. A lonesome man laid there. The wind tickled his bearded face. The early light of the morning sharply penetrated his eyelids. The sun, damned braggart, always earlier up than he, but he had had a good night’s sleep. The moon was however, he thought, a better companion.

Slowly he rose, stretched and searched through his sack that lied beside the bench to get himself a drop of water. The bottle was as always full. It proved tricky to find the bottle as his eyes was newly blinded by the matinal greeting from before, furthermore he had forgotten which bottle was which. The drink appeared to be unusually gilded. He thought to himself that it might as well be a beer or perhaps apple juice. Even though its scent was oh so ghastly then he wasn’t the one to complain. Maybe a tad too old? Never mind. He drank it. The taste was horrible and bitter, though strangely familiar. Instinctively he projected not only the golden drops out, but also several foul words pertaining to the miracles of reproduction and its incongruous and dubious relationship with the imbibed liquid.

It was becoming that time of the day, where he would wander from bin to bin near the vicinity of the shopping centre in search for food. People were so frivolous when it came to their food, but much to his own personal avail he thought. He gathered his belongings in the bags and off he journeyed for his regular wanderings.

His first destination was the dumpsters of the bakery, but there was nothing to be found. Very well, t’wards the supermarket he went, “there oughta be som’thin’ thar,” he thought to himself. He found a packet of half-eaten doughnuts and without much hesitation he scoffed them. “Ain’t ‘alf bad methinks,” he thought. Thus with that conviction he fared off, the indefatigable prospector of the streets towards the depths of this Eden of opulence, scintillating windows, ravenous customers and bloody good grub.

He strutted about the shops. Hamburger, that sounded bloody lovely, but rather dear, so all he needed to do was the wait for gluttony to be of advantage to him for the more the people ate, the more satiated they became the more grub there was left! The rounds continued. Now people had to start becoming more avid with buying hamburgers, he thought to himself. Even quicker and more tensed he wandered back and forth. He slowed down, waited by the toilets of the place, then did his business. He went yet again back and forth, in front of the burger place, where he could see people happily munching burger after burger. Couldn’t there at least be one who was just a bit sensible and regretted their hamburger?

NOPE!

People were content with their dinner. So he went towards the pizzaria. Same perambulation to and fro, but now it paid off. People were exceptionally virtuous with their dieting or rather sensibility came trickling forth after they had ordered their meal. Watchful as a hawk he monitored them. His eyes followed the pizza’s course from window to dumpster. Surreptitiously he sneaked behind the back of the pizzaria and snatched himself his supper.

All the salt and fat had given him the mightiest thirst for something sweet to drink, luckily there was a couple cans of soda to be found the same place. He paused, but then proceeded to drink it. It tasted sweet, nary the slightest aftertaste of bitterness to be noticed. The nausea from the yellow, funny drink and too much pizza was beginning to emerge. The countenance shifted in colour. Down was drink and pizza and up they gushed. Weary from his puking and wandering about, he went back to his homely bench.

Night descended and so did he upon his bench. A small piece of bitten pizza and two cans of suspicious soda was his supper. His breakfast was the leftovers from some doughnuts. “Least the soda tasted – tho’ quite owd – not as ‘orrible”.

Thousands of living sapphires strewn across the firmament appeared. The Moon rose amongst them in nebulous majesty. It hailed the man on the bench, who waved back, they wished each other a good night sleep and then he slept.

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