Lines run along the planks like wooden fingerprints. The dark varnish is starting to peel,
exposing splinters perfect for catching out unsuspecting posteriors. Even the green paint has
grown tired of this, crumbling away in flakes that stick to your fingers and clothes like clouds
clinging to the travelling winds that carry them. It's an old bench. As far as benches go, it's
not the comfiest, nor is it the best looking, but it will do.
Come. Sit with me.
Look at this polished little plaque. See how it has rusted around the screws, and how time
has sanded away the engraving until only hairline grooves remain? You're right, it probably
was dedicated to someone. They're probably dead too, if you'll excuse my bluntness. Much
obliged, I wasn't looking forward to having to find someone else to talk to. Everyone else has
heads that are too full of noisy thoughts and "important questions" to make room for any of
my advice or stories, which are the only options on the menu.
Now, where was I? The plaque? Quite right you are. As I was saying, it was probably paid
for by some family member, desperate to show just how much the person who died meant to
them by forking out a considerable amount of money, magically making up for every missed
birthday and suchlike. Or perhaps it was paid for by someone clinging forcibly to the
memories that made up this person, determined to have some physical monument, some
tangible marker to acknowledge what was more likely than not an unexceptional life. Not that
there's anything wrong with that. It's just that you are fighting a losing battle. The quest for
permanence goes directly against the impermanent nature of the world and your own volatile
existence. To be human is to be dynamic, you understand. It is inevitable. Very little in the
universe is unchanging. Even the heroes you entomb in myths, whose stories you pass
down in your histories, will eventually be lost to oblivion or forgotten. It is a strange thing to
die twice.
I'll remind you of a well known secret: you don't have to be remembered to be important. You
just need to make the world just a little bit better for everyone else. It doesn't have to be a
celebrated endeavor. It can be as simple as building a bench.