They were supposed to tear it down.
About a story up, a woman stood at the window of her apartment, staring off into the nothingness of the city – grayed out by the blankets of drizzle. In between the spaces of peace she would take a drag, and spend another few moments admiring her contribution to the canvas in front of her.
Down below, they sat side by side on the swing set. There had been an effort years ago to bring a park to the area, but once a demand for funds arose elsewhere the project was hastily abandoned. The parents of the area who had excitedly awaited the park didn’t feel the same when their park had become two swings in an empty lot; there were attempts to get the city to tear it down and close off the whole space, but through fancy finger pointing and hand-offs nothing ever came of it.
A touch out of the way, he had taken a liking to the swing set park. Late at night he would wonder until he found his way there, and for hours he would swing in solidarity.
He wasn’t alone any more though.
As the light showers fell down upon the two, he felt his throat tighten – just enough to make speaking an effort.
His hands were cold against the chains.
Staring directly forward, he managed, “I need to tell you something.”
As the ground was pelted with droplets from above, a familiar sporadic pattern was formed from the resulting ripples.
He just needed to say it.
“I…I really,” he fumbled the words out, “uh, like you.”
The water from above trailed down the chain of swing, and climbed down his fingers; and the cool winds turned chilly with the company of such a damp companion.
He didn’t mind the cold or the silence.
The words he contributed to the canvas settled, and out the corner of his eye he saw her hand leave the chain and reach out into the space between them.
He looked back forward and let the impact of her actions find it’s place. The rain pelted his back, but only slightly so; each patter seemed to work with the ones preceding and proceeding it, and he set his mind to imagine a rhythm that could match his own – if only the rain wasn’t so slight.
He focused himself to mirror her reaching out, and as he took her hand he couldn’t help but notice how cold everything was.
They didn’t mind the cold.