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MidReal Story
The Nighttime Park
Scenario:Je m appel Martin 52 ans j aime beaucoup aller me promener le soir dans un parc ouu il y a plusieurs personnes le soir
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Martin Thompson
curious, and sociable. Martin often watches people and engages with strangers, finding comfort in their stories. He meets the Grooming Man and develops a friendship, learning about his life and sharing his own experiences. Martin's routine is enriched by these interactions, providing him with new perspectives and companionship.
Sarah Mitchell
thoughtful, and reserved. Sarah initially appears shy but gradually opens up to Martin's friendly approach. Her presence adds a touch of serenity to the park's lively atmosphere, providing an interesting contrast to the more boisterous characters like the Grooming Man.
The Grooming Man
humorous, and openminded. Despite his unusual behavior, he is friendly and engaging. The Grooming Man shares stories about his life as a former soldier and current handyman, revealing his resilience and adaptability. His friendship with Martin adds depth to their lives, fostering mutual understanding and camaraderie.
I am 52 years old, and I love taking walks in the evening.
There’s something about the end of the day that makes me want to get outside and breathe in some fresh air.
There’s a park near my house that is perfect for this.
Every evening, I can expect to see dozens of people doing all sorts of things.
Some play frisbee or soccer, others walk their dogs, and a few just sit on benches.
One man in particular caught my eye.
He had no shirt on, revealing a tanned chest, and every evening he would stop at a streetlight and groom himself.
I never did figure out what he was doing to groom himself, but he always had a small bag with him and he would pull something out every now and then.
I watched him for several nights before I decided I had to know what this guy’s story was.
The next time I saw him, I walked straight up to him and asked him what he was doing.
He looked up at me with a slightly amused expression, then said, "Just getting myself ready for bed."
"Why here?"
I asked.
He looked around at the park.
"Where else? This is the most convenient place. Besides, it’s not like I’m doing anything wrong."
He didn’t seem upset that I was questioning him, so I asked, "What do you do for a living?"
Now he did look upset.
"I used to be a soldier," he said after a moment.
I leaned against the pole of the streetlight, giving him space.
"I’m sorry if I intruded," I said.
He nodded and pulled out a small brush from his bag.
"I’m Martin Thompson," I said, extending my hand.
He shook it and said, "Grooming Man."
I raised an eyebrow at this.
"Seriously?"
He looked up at me with a serious expression.
"Of course not. But you have to admit, that’s what you’ve been calling me in your head."
I couldn’t argue with him there.
"Fair point," I admitted.
"You know, I walk through this park every night."
"Oh? I’ve seen you then. You always seem to be watching us."
I nodded.
"Yes, I do. You’re all interesting people."
He went back to what he was doing, which seemed to involve brushing his hair with a lot of force.
I watched for a few moments before continuing.
"There are teenagers playing basketball over by the tennis courts. The elderly couple who always share a thermos of tea. There’s Sarah with her thick novels. There’s…"
I stopped when Grooming Man looked up at me.
"What about me?" he asked, his voice a little rougher than it had been before.
I shrugged my shoulders.
"I don’t know much about you." He nodded and went back to his hair.
It was starting to look a little wild, but I didn’t want to comment on that lest he got upset again.
After several minutes of silence, Grooming Man put his brush away and pulled out a small comb from his bag.
This one was more like the kind I used on my beard every morning, except it had wider teeth.
He pulled it through his hair methodically, stopping every so often to remove a tangle or knot.
"Do you live near here?" he asked as he worked on his hair.
"No," I admitted.
"I live on the other side of town."
"So why do you come here?"
I shrugged again, but he was still looking at his hair so he didn’t see me.
"I told you. There are interesting people here. And besides, it’s not too far of a walk."
Grooming Man didn’t say anything else until he finished with the comb and put it away.
Then he pulled out a small mirror from his bag and examined himself in its reflection carefully.
"You know, I used to come here with someone," he said, his voice softer now.
"Who was that?" I asked, sensing this was important.
"My brother," he replied, his eyes distant.
"He’s dead now, though. So I come here to remember him."
I nodded and said, "I’m sorry about your loss."
Grooming Man nodded back.
"I know it’s not the same as having him here, but it helps me to come here every night and think about him."
"Is that why you do that?"
I asked, gesturing to his hair.
He nodded.
"Yes. It helps me get into the right mindset for thinking about my brother."
I didn’t know what to say to this.
So I just nodded.
After a few more moments, Grooming Man put his mirror away and stood up.
"Well, Martin," he said.
"I’ll see you tomorrow?"
"Yes," I said, smiling.
"Take care."
He nodded and then walked off in the direction of the basketball court.
I continued on my usual route through the park.
The sun had gone down by now, leaving only a few rays peeking over the horizon.
The air was cool and still, with a light breeze blowing through the trees.
As I rounded a bend in the path near where the grass grew wild, I noticed something move out of the corner of my eye.
I looked over at the tall grass, but saw nothing except its dark shadowy outline against the sky. The movement caught my eye again as I turned back to the path ahead of me.
This time I was able to pinpoint it better: two figures crouched low in the tall grass, their silhouettes barely visible against its dark shape.
They seemed to be huddled together in a way that was secretive and intimate.
I stopped walking and stepped behind a large oak tree near the path.
Pressing my back against its rough bark, I stayed perfectly still and watched them through the darkness.
As my eyes adjusted to the lack of light, I saw that they were two teenage boys sharing a kiss under cover of the tall grass.
My heart raced with excitement at seeing this display of affection between two young lovers in such a secretive place.
I couldn't help but smile as I watched them, feeling like I was witnessing something special.
Suddenly, one of the boys pulled back and whispered, "Did you hear that?"
The other boy looked around nervously and replied, "I think it's just the wind."
But as I froze behind the oak tree, my heart pounding in my chest, I realized that I had been the one to make the noise.
The boys were looking around now, their eyes scanning the trees for any sign of movement.
I held my breath, pressing myself harder against the rough bark of the oak tree, hoping that they wouldn't see me hiding there.
One of the boys squinted through the darkness towards me.
I could feel his eyes on me, even though I knew he couldn't see me.
I didn't dare move a muscle, afraid that he would hear me and come running over to where I was hiding.
He turned back to his companion and whispered something in his ear.
The other boy nodded nervously and tugged on his sleeve, pulling him away from where I was hiding.
They hurriedly gathered their things and started walking away, casting nervous glances over their shoulders as they went. After what felt like an eternity, they were out of sight.
I slid down the trunk of the oak tree and sat there for a moment, letting my heart rate slow down.
Then I continued on my walk through the park.
The night had deepened, leaving me alone with the secrets it held.
I stayed seated against the oak tree for several minutes, my legs still shaking from the close call.
The park's lamplights cast long shadows across the path ahead of me, which wound its way through a denser section of trees that I rarely explored.
Standing up, I brushed dirt off my pants and noticed that someone had spray-painted "midnight lovers" on the bench nearest where I had been hiding.
I couldn't help but smile at the sight of the crude letters, thinking of the boys who had just shared a secret moment in the tall grass.
Although it was late and the darkness thickened, I felt irresistibly drawn to the unlit path that branched off from the main road.
Checking my watch, I saw that it was 10:47 PM.
Standing at the edge of the dark path, I pulled my phone from the pocket of my jacket.
Its screen glowed as I scrolled through my contacts until I found Jack's number.
The leaves beneath my feet crunched with every step as I walked back and forth near the main walkway, waiting for him to answer.
When he finally picked up, I tried to keep my voice steady.
"I'm in the park. Can you meet me here?"
I asked.
"I'll be at the park entrance in fifteen minutes," he replied without hesitation.