Open. The weather is hard to judge outside. Grey clouds and strong winds, but a heat which has you reaching to unzip. Then you stand in the cold with your flies down.
A bench awaits on one side of the street and sitting down a comfortable temperature settles down. Someone joins you on the bench, an old friend. The conversation is silent, but it doesn’t matter. Words aren’t needed.
It isn’t long though before another person sits down, and this person is not quite as nice. Conversation beings, desperate conversation. This person then sits further away. Move up. They stand and leave. It’s cold again. Too cold. Took stock one the wrong side. Time to leave.
Close.




