Rookie log #5: HQ locale

It was a cool, sunny day when it occurred. A peaceful stroll past the water fountain led me to a bench on the edge of the large pond. I would’ve taken the very right seat, like I do every Monday afternoon, however, there was a gentleman sitting there, choosing to stare off into the distance rather than at the newspaper in his hands. There was something fishy about him, but I took a seat on the left side anyway. There was a hanging silence in the air that only the swimming ducks felt the need to fill. Then, 15 minutes had passed and…

“Awfully fine weather.”

I took a moment to look around to see who he was talking to. He turned his head slightly in my direction. “Isn’t it?” I was stuck in silence for a moment, not knowing how to respond. I hadn’t prepared myself for a conversation. I said what I thought was the most appropriate response for such a sudden conversation.

“Perhaps.”

He must have been pleased by this response, as the conversation continued.

“Some would say too fine.”

The gentleman stressed the last word as if it were a warning. I replied accordingly.

“That is expected of a Monday.”

The man gave a nod. Then, while still staring forward, took the briefcase that sat at his feet (which surely hadn’t been there before), placed it flat on the bench beside him, and slid it across to me. Then, he got up and walked away. I remained seated, thinking the gentleman would come back for the briefcase. Finally, when the sun was well below the horizon and the people were few, in fact, none, I ventured to open it. I turned. I clicked the clasps. I opened. It was close to empty. All there was to occupy the velvety space was an official-looking paper.

HQ locale. Member #5.

Then, I woke up here.