The Silhouette

He was in the dark sitting on a wooden bench. He was under the shade of a tree, the name of which he doesn't know for he doesn't care to know.

He always went by this spot every Friday afternoon. It was during this time when the park is least animated.

He leaned back on the bench and looked skyward. It's a particularly fine day today, with little clouds and a fine breeze.

Just a few minutes more and the sun would start to set. It was few of the things he went here for, the sunset. His bench was facing west giving him a clear look of the beauty that is about to unfold. The ground was a little bit sloping but not at all steepy. In front of him is a lake. He was, as he calculated, 5 meters above lake-level.

Minutes later, the sun began to lazily crept behind the horizon, leaving a tinge of assorted colors in the sky as the lake brightens up to an orange glow. And before the last rays fade, a streak of pale-yellow  light mingled in the pastel-colored sky. It was like a postcard-scene. Every painter's dream.

Now the park is getting dark, light posts started to flicker and one by one the lights went on.

Nighttime's just around the corner. It was now time to go home, he decided..

Slowly he stood from the bench and cast a last glance on the lake. Something caught his attention. Directly in front of him, just a meter from the lake, he saw a silhouette..

P.S.
one of the few stories i wrote a few years back (unfinished obviously). just stumbled upon an old notebook where i kept some of them. i also write love poems those days.

Faraway in a lonesome place
Faraway where there's quite and peace
It was a place so faraway
And I made that place my runaway.

I remembered writing this lame poem. It's for my first teenage love. geez.

I'm gonna look for the original notebook and I'm gonna post all my earlier writing attempts here..