He was that guy who worked at some corporate company, made tons of money, and wore a suit and tie. He picked up his coffee at the same corner of 59th and 5th, saw the same tree in central park, and walk the same path to his work everyday. Unremarkably, he continued on this bland adventure called his life. Then his life was taken by the scruff of the neck, thrown out the window, and picked up by some lady walking by. That lady’s name was Kalila. “Remember that day when we spontaneously flew to Hawaii and spent the week there for no reason,” Bob smiled as he reminisced. The little kid a few steps behind him asked his mom who the strange man was talking to but the mother just hurried her back towards the concession stands. The breeze blew his black curls back as Bob sat down, head on the railing, looking out towards the sea. The sea gave him comfort like a baby’s blanket, soothing and soft. Everyday Bob came to the same pier at Santa Monica beach and sat at the same spot at the end of the pier, away from all the rides. His eyes resembled two grey stones alone in the middle of a pond and his ears where uncannily big. The look on his face was blank like a new chalk board. This was the life of Bob.
....

“Can you believe what the taxi driver said to me today!” she yelled as she strolled into the apartment, systematically peeling off her layers of clothes. It had been raining outside and her umbrella was wet, but she didn’t care and instead threw it on the ground. Bob kissed her softly on the cheek: “What?” “He was like, ‘Next time you come in my cab you will shut up with your loud gossiping on your stupid phone, kapeesh?’” “Wow, what a jerk,” Bob said derisively while sighing. Kalila had come home every week this month from work complaining and complaining. Bob couldn’t handle it and was bursting to say something about what he saw that fateful day two weeks ago but he couldn’t put himself up to it. This continued for the rest of the month.
....

Bob woke up in a cold sweat. His feet were tingling and his brow was sopping as he reached for the towel next to his bed. This was the third night since the beginning of the month that he had woken up in a frenzy. He looked over at Kalila and smiled: “You’re even beautiful when you sleep,” he thought to himself. He laid down next to her and felt a sense of security next to her. His dream of their terrible break up continuously haunted him every night. He could always remember that they fought over something silly but could not recall what it was. Her presence always relieved him after these unnerving dreams.
....

It was an unfamiliarly sunny day at Central Park. Bob walked with a bouquet of red roses and pink lilies to the bench that Kalila was drinking her coffee on. After several urgent texts, Bob had convinced her that he had an emergency and needed her to come to Central Park. He watched her show up and look for him but he remained hidden. Flustered, she had sat on the bench in a huff and was about to pull out her phone to text him. As Bob handed her the flowers, he gave her a kiss and said, “Happy Valentine’s Day!” Her face lit up when she received the flowers and she gave a him a hug. He smiled and sat next to her on the bench. “Do you remember this bench?” Bob asked as he took a sip of her iced coffee. She looked at him puzzled, “Of course I do, how could I forget.” She snatched at her coffee nervously and took a long sip. Bob, being unaware, replied “How could I doubt you.”
....

Bob sat nervously at the bench opposite the lake in Central Park. He was waiting for his “friend” to drop off a briefcase full of drugs. He hadn’t done this before but with all the stress at work his friend had advised it. He saw the guy, got up, left his own briefcase full of money, and walked away. The guy took the briefcase and started walking away with a brisk pace. Bob was confused when he returned to an empty bench. He panicked and started running around Central Park, looking for his briefcase. Bob eventually gave up in a huff and returned to the bench where the ordeal began. He sat there crying softly, “This is the worst day ever.” She came behind him and gently rubbed his back, “Everything is gonna be alright.”
....

The pain in his hand opened his eyes as he took his hands of the wooden pier. His hand was bleeding due to a big splinter in the palm of his hand. He spent ten painstaking minutes trying to dislodge the splinter. Finally, Bob pulled the splinter out and flicked it into the ocean. He got up, wiped the blood on his sweater, and walked back to the roller coaster.