Ah, it’s a perfect day. A beautiful day. And would you look at that? Over there, just behind a massive oak tree are a group of squirrels gnawing on something. Could be garbage or an unmentionable extremity. Sometimes squirrels eat nuts, sometimes they don’t. By the benches is middle-aged man sanding the edges of his milk crate for a late afternoon diatribe. This lecture series is short on facts, but not on mental illness. Being a self-proclaimed prophet requires a lot of self-proclaiming. There’s a guy with a metal detector in search of treasure, but mostly, he’s alerting his fellow park goers to his misbegotten quest. A collection of hippies gather around a bongo drum. Like most of their kind, they are of indeterminate age. Could they have just graduated college? Possibly. Either that or escaped the Vietnam War my skedaddling to Canada.
It’s just another walk in the park. Only one you wouldn’t want to do with open-toed sandals on account of all the leftover syringes from your neighborhood needle exchange.
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