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MidReal Story
Bench Conversations: Unveiling Life's Mysteries
Scenario:A man and a woman sitting on a park bench. The man wants the woman to come to a deeper understanding of the world and her life in it. He picks three headlines from the newspaper he's reading as prompts to encourage the woman to open herself to speculative conversation.
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Mark Thompson
a passing stranger who joins the conversation occasionally, acquaintance of James and Sarah, athletic build with a friendly smile
Sarah Jennings
the conversational partner, friends with James, short with curly hair, reserved and introspective
James Carter
the conversationalist, friends with Sarah, tall with glasses, thoughtful and inquisitive
The newspaper headlines read: "Local Woman Dies Suddenly", "New Planet Discovered" and "God Appears in Dream to Man, Reveals Future".
I fold the paper and set it down on the bench beside me.
My friend Sarah is sitting to my right.
We come here every Saturday morning to talk about life.
Well... I do most of the talking.
Sarah is a listener.
Short with curly brown hair and big green eyes, she's a petite woman with a quiet disposition.
I'm tall with glasses, so we make an interesting pair.
"I've been thinking..."
I say.
"About what?"
She asks, looking at me.
"About how we think we know what's going on in the world."
I wave the newspaper.
"Take this for example. Three completely different stories. One about a tragedy. One about science. One about religion. Which one is true?"
Sarah shrugs.
"All of them, I suppose."
"That's right. They all are. But which one do we believe? Do we believe the newspaper? Do we believe what other people tell us?"
Sarah looks at me suspiciously.
"What are you getting at?"
"I'm getting at this," I say, holding up the newspaper headline "God Appears in Dream to Man, Reveals Future".
"I want you to tell me what you think that man might have heard."
Sarah looks at me like I'm crazy.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean... if God really appeared to this man in a dream, what might God have said?"
Sarah shrugs again.
"I don't know..."
I lean forward, my elbows resting on my knees, and urge Sarah again, "Come on, Sarah, speculate with me. What message might God have shared?"
She hesitates, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her coat, her eyes fixed on the newspaper headlines lying between us.
Just as I'm about to rephrase the question, Mark Thompson approaches, his athletic frame casting a shadow over us. "Mind if I join?" he asks with a friendly grin.
Sarah nods, grateful for the distraction, and I gesture to the empty space beside her. Mark sits down, glancing at the headline. "Maybe God told him something about our purpose," he suggests.
Sarah's eyes flicker with interest. "Purpose? Like what?" she asks quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Mark shrugs, "Maybe something about living authentically."
The sound of children's laughter carries from the nearby playground, mingling with the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. The sun casts dappled shadows on the grass beneath our feet.
I watch Sarah's face, hoping to see a spark of curiosity ignite within her. Her eyes dart between Mark and me, as if searching for a way out of this conversation.
"Like what does that even mean?" she presses, her brow furrowed in skepticism.
Mark leans back, his hands clasped behind his head. "I don't know... maybe it means being true to ourselves, rather than trying to fit into some predetermined mold."
The scent of freshly cut grass wafts through the air, transporting me back to summer afternoons spent playing catch with my dad.
Sarah's gaze drifts back to the headlines, her eyes lingering on the words "God Appears in Dream to Man, Reveals Future". A faint crease forms between her eyebrows.
Suddenly, a loud shout erupts from the playground, followed by the sound of pounding footsteps. A little boy comes running towards us, his face flushed with excitement.
"Mark! Mark! Come see what I found!" he yells, tugging on Mark's arm.
Mark smiles apologetically and rises from the bench. "Sorry, guys, duty calls."
As he follows the boy back to the playground, Sarah's eyes meet mine, and for an instant, I sense a glimmer of understanding. But before I can grasp it, she looks away, her face a mask once more.
I realize then that the truth we seek is often hidden in the questions we dare not ask.
I lean forward, folding the newspaper on my lap, and meet Sarah's gaze. "Let's explore this further," I suggest, my voice steady. "What if we seek our own answers, beyond the headlines?"
Sarah shifts slightly, her fingers tracing the edge of the bench. Her eyes flicker with uncertainty but also curiosity.
I pick another headline, "Scientists Discover New Planet with Signs of Life," and place it between us as a new prompt. "Imagine what life could be like there," I prod gently.
She hesitates, then begins to speak slowly, her words painting tentative images of unknown worlds. "Maybe it's a planet where gravity doesn't exist, and people float around like feathers in the wind."
Her voice is barely above a whisper, but I can sense the excitement building within her. I nod encouragingly, my eyes locked on hers.
"Or maybe it's a world where time moves differently," she continues, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Where a day lasts for years, and people live in slow motion."
The sounds of the park fade into the background as we delve deeper into our speculative conversation. The rustling of leaves, the chirping of birds, and the distant laughter of children all blend together to create a symphony of creativity.
Sarah's words flow more freely now, her imagination running wild with possibilities. "Perhaps it's a planet where emotions are tangible, and people can see their feelings manifesting around them."
I listen intently, my mind racing with the endless possibilities. The sun casts a warm glow on our faces, illuminating the excitement in Sarah's eyes.
As she speaks, her words begin to weave a tapestry of wonder, transporting us to a realm beyond the confines of our reality. I feel my own imagination stirring, responding to the spark of creativity that Sarah has ignited.
Suddenly, a strong gust of wind sweeps through the park, rustling the leaves and sending the newspaper headlines fluttering to the ground. Our conversation is interrupted by the sound of papers scattering in all directions.
