by johannespunkt

An empty park bench made of exquisite beige wood, uncannily placed in the middle of a field. The weather has no effect on it. The bench reacts when you sit on it – not a lot, but enough that you notice it. You can talk to anyone else who has sat, or will sit, on this bench, as long as you know their name, as long as they know yours. The bench will fade away after you have had your one conversation. So, the question is, who do you talk to? I took a deep breath and said my own name.