UNDISCLOSED #2– 24th February 2008

9am, and I am sitting at a park bench and table.  It is one of those small parks tucked away between narrow inner city streets. A little park haven, a couple of swings, one of those multiple-function play sets and one table and bench setting.

From my bag I take out two loaves of sliced white bread, butter, vegemite, peanut butter, a packet of hundreds and thousands, a knife, a bread board, a roll of wax paper, 8 paper cups, 2 litres of pre-made orange cordial and a texta.

I open the first loaf of bread and take four slices out placing them on the bread board. I pick up the knife and start to butter the slices, reaching for the vegemite I spread this over two of the slices of bread. Not too much, not too little but just right, evenly and smoothly spread. I place the buttered slices on top and cut the two sandwiches into quarters. Reaching for the paper I measure out enough to wrap a sandwich.  I am wrapping the first of the sandwiches, evenly, neatly, measured, folding the ends over and sealing the freshly made sandwich inside. I reach for the texta, and on the paper I write the name Jill. Placing it to one side I measure out some more paper and I wrap the second sandwich. I write the name Timothy.

I am alone, there is no-one else in the park, a few people have walked past, glancing over. I feel like I must seem like an organised mother pre-paring for the picnic, making the sandwiches, alone, the calm before the storm.

I have now made four more sandwiches, two with peanut butter and two with just plain butter. The names read Clancy, David, Theo, Cathy.

I am sprinkling hundreds and thousands over two buttered slices. It fills me with a sense of fun and joy! Even now, hundreds and thousands seem to represent something special, a treat! I was never allowed to have such a sandwich at school.

I place the last two neatly wrapped parcels on the bench – Mathew and Rachel.

Picking up the paper cups, I place one next to each sandwich. I fill each one with cordial.

Cleaning up the mess, I pack it all away into my bag.

Remaining on the park table is a setting for eight. Eight sandwiches, eight cups filled with cordial. Eight names.

No-one has arrived, no-one has ventured into the park.

I leave.  Alone.  It is 9.35am


~ by jvulcan on February 15, 2009.

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