Hang Out Place

I see Shaun, sunglasses on, even in the shade of our bench, indifferently listening to his iPod while flipping through a magazine. I see all of the people all sitting in a row, straining forwards or backwards in order to see and talk to each other. I see the frantic person pressing buttons on his calculator in a last ditch effort to make a decent attempt at his math homework before math class starts in 10 minutes. I see the huge array of bags, books and water bottles carelessly strewn across the floor of the bench, piled on top of each other and being kicked around. I see two people sitting on the floor, with their backs leaning up against a pillar, smiling in intimate conversation. I hear the loud cacophony of voices around me, the words jumbling over each other in an effort to be heard over the others. I hear the laughs and shrieks mingling amid the background noise of the wind blowing through the palm trees. I see the people watching, judging, talking about the people who pass by the bench. I see the people draped on each other in hugs, sitting on each other, leaning on each other in order to make room for one more person on the already crowded bench.

Taking a step back...
I see the same people in a close mass, interacting with each other...but the sound is gone. Mouths are moving with no voices coming out. The meaning of each gesticulation, each body movement takes on a whole new meaning when not attached to the timbre of a voice. There is a whole new side to everything.