The view

The place was quiet that morning. Even quieter than the rest of the city. You would just hear the birds and the hard wind in the trees. Here and there, benches seemed to wait for visitors, facing the lake, like pensive animals. When you approached one of them, you discover a small plaque that reads names and kind words. And you would understand that each bench was a small memorial that offered to the dead grand-parents, fathers, mothers, spouses, friends and neighbours a nice view, and a chance to meet new people everyday and embrace their lovely ones from time to time again. Wandering the paths, you would feel like taking part in a peaceful ghosts gathering. Sometimes, you would face a bench with a free slot, waiting for its plaque. A ghost of a ghost, even more silent. And you couldn’t help thinking how lucky the people of this town were.