Lukewarm Garbage

A young boy was sitting on a bench. The weather was hot, as usual. Arizona lives up to its name. The boy wore a jacket, and although the weather didn’t call for one, it was easier to unwind in. He sighed deeply, relaxing his muscles until he almost melted into the bench. He looked up. The sun was setting, and as with every sunset, every single day, he was at the park closest to his house, watching it intently. It felt sleepy today – the sun. It set not with its usual elegance, but with a sluggish collapse, and the colors all across the sky lay over it like a blanket, only pushing it down further. The boy knew, of course, that the sun set the same way yesterday, and will set the same way tomorrow. But it was fun to imagine. Maybe today, the sun can set a little differently. Who is to say it can’t? He smiled a faint smile. The thought felt pleasant. The sun could set any way it wanted to.

“Helloooo? Is anybody there?” a voice, a feminine voice, called out. There was an intruder on the scene. Who would be here at this hour? No, that doesn’t matter. What matters is that her voice is unfamiliar. It’s been a while since there’s been anyone new here. Elsewhere, Arizona. The place nobody visits. But someone’s clearly here. “Oh! You there! Can you hear me?” she yelled out. Detected at last. Relax, he thought. It’s just a person. You’re a person too! He looked up at the sun, and the sun was sinking. Soon, not a single glimpse would be left. “Hi! Uh, could you help me out, I think I might be, well, you know, lost?” she ran up to him, panting, her hands on her knees. He looked at her, a bit puzzled, as if looking over a product in a store. She felt this, and felt a bit uncomfortable. Finally, he concluded. He really has never seen her before.

Yes, she was a girl; it was obvious from her voice. She was short and rather skinny, with short brown hair, wavy, bangs that fell just above her hazel eyes, a hat on top of it, large and with a ribbon. She wore a dress, yellow, light, drooping to below her knees, almost made to flutter in the wind, but wind never blows around these parts. She wasn’t from around here, British, probably, he could tell by the way she said her “r”s and her “a”s. “Lost?” he asked. She exhaled, as if relieved that he wasn’t mute or deaf or a mannequin. “Alright, uh, see, we just moved here, me and my dad, and I thought I’d just take a stroll ‘round the neighborhood, uhm, you know, just to kinda take it in, I guess, and I must’ve taken a few wrong turns, ‘cause I don’t think I’ve been here before, so I turned back, but the gate was already locked, and that really sucks ‘cause I had to be home by sunset, and the sun’s already been, well, set!” she said. Wow. Talkative.

She caught her breath, and looked up, letting out a nervous giggle. “Sorry, I just… I guess I do that sometimes? I should’ve introduced myself first, right? Margaret Langley, but Margaret’s like, an old lady name, so everyone just calls me May. Oh, uhm, I mean, if your mom’s named Margaret, or your sister or something, I didn’t mean it in that way!” she said, and tried smiling. The boy squinted. What an interesting girl. Unpredictable. Maybe she was a bit… too unpredictable? Time will tell. He smiled. “Miles Adams.” he said.