Unfortunate Humans of Central Park
Chapter One
The illuminating rays of the sun shimmered down on the multicolored trees surrounding Central Park. The gold and crimson canopies stood proudly, almost as tall as the grey monotonous buildings nearby. I glanced at the crisp copper leaves falling from the trees and swaying gracefully in the autumn wind before laying on the bed of scarlet leaves. The cold brittle air gently touched my pale skin. It was nothing like the harsh stings of the winter air. It was the just the right kind of cold that made you feel vibrant when you breathed in the fresh clean air.
I was sitting on the dull metal bench in complete solitude and my only source of a companion was my copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray that laid on my lap. My purple lunch bag sat right next to me. A grilled cheese sandwich wrapped in plastic, a bowl of salad with ranch dressing, potato chips, and a thermos of my special hot cocoa. I looked at my wristwatch: 12:00 pm. Only 45 minutes before I head back to NYU for my Intro to Anthropology course. Central Park has been busier and crowded than ever before. In the distance, I could see a family of four having a picnic on the grass. The mother and father were having a conversation, a wonderful one by the looks of it because they were laughing and smiling. However, I couldn't make out what they were saying. I could see the son and the daughter rolling around in the lush, fresh grass.
The mother looked young, maybe in her late twenties, but very beautiful. She looked like she used to be a former model for huge magazines/ publications. Her hair was a rich shade of mahogany. It flowed in waves to adorn her glowing, porcelain-like skin. Her eyes, framed by long lashes, were a bright, emerald-green and seemed to brighten the world. A straight nose, full lips - she seemed the picture of perfection. She was wearing a blue cardigan and a pretty yellow conservative dress with a blue bow wrapped around her waist. The father was also very handsome but a bit older than his wife, maybe in his early forties. His cheeks are chiseled like a finely-carved Michelangelo statue. His nose is perfectly symmetrical. His full plump lips curl into a heartwarming smile, the kind of smile that is worthy of anyone’s trust. The rays of sun highlight the dimples in his cheeks and chin. A tuft of his hazel hair was curled at the top. His hair was fluffy at the bottom and reached right below his ear. He had a bit of facial hair just under his nose and all around his mouth. However, his ruffled hair and facial hair made him look as though he had a clean-cut image. He wore a blue polo shirt to match his wife. A few buttons were unbuttoned and showed a small patch of his chest hair. His khaki slacks were slightly stained from the grass. Their offspring were just as beautiful as the parents. The daughter had clean blonde hair that was bouncing around as she was playing tag with her younger brother who had the smile of his father and the eyes of his mother. They were the most gorgeous family I have ever set my eyes on. I moved to the other side of the bench to get a better glimpse of the enticing family. I pretended to read my book and I would look up every so often to observe them. I don’t why I found this family to be so intriguing. Maybe it could be the fact that such a charming family could have something dark lurking in their lives. They could be more corrupted than they let on to be. No perfect family ever exists.
I was sitting on the dull metal bench in complete solitude and my only source of a companion was my copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray that laid on my lap. My purple lunch bag sat right next to me. A grilled cheese sandwich wrapped in plastic, a bowl of salad with ranch dressing, potato chips, and a thermos of my special hot cocoa. I looked at my wristwatch: 12:00 pm. Only 45 minutes before I head back to NYU for my Intro to Anthropology course. Central Park has been busier and crowded than ever before. In the distance, I could see a family of four having a picnic on the grass. The mother and father were having a conversation, a wonderful one by the looks of it because they were laughing and smiling. However, I couldn't make out what they were saying. I could see the son and the daughter rolling around in the lush, fresh grass.
The mother looked young, maybe in her late twenties, but very beautiful. She looked like she used to be a former model for huge magazines/ publications. Her hair was a rich shade of mahogany. It flowed in waves to adorn her glowing, porcelain-like skin. Her eyes, framed by long lashes, were a bright, emerald-green and seemed to brighten the world. A straight nose, full lips - she seemed the picture of perfection. She was wearing a blue cardigan and a pretty yellow conservative dress with a blue bow wrapped around her waist. The father was also very handsome but a bit older than his wife, maybe in his early forties. His cheeks are chiseled like a finely-carved Michelangelo statue. His nose is perfectly symmetrical. His full plump lips curl into a heartwarming smile, the kind of smile that is worthy of anyone’s trust. The rays of sun highlight the dimples in his cheeks and chin. A tuft of his hazel hair was curled at the top. His hair was fluffy at the bottom and reached right below his ear. He had a bit of facial hair just under his nose and all around his mouth. However, his ruffled hair and facial hair made him look as though he had a clean-cut image. He wore a blue polo shirt to match his wife. A few buttons were unbuttoned and showed a small patch of his chest hair. His khaki slacks were slightly stained from the grass. Their offspring were just as beautiful as the parents. The daughter had clean blonde hair that was bouncing around as she was playing tag with her younger brother who had the smile of his father and the eyes of his mother. They were the most gorgeous family I have ever set my eyes on. I moved to the other side of the bench to get a better glimpse of the enticing family. I pretended to read my book and I would look up every so often to observe them. I don’t why I found this family to be so intriguing. Maybe it could be the fact that such a charming family could have something dark lurking in their lives. They could be more corrupted than they let on to be. No perfect family ever exists.