The man clung to the left armrest of a bench that comfortably seated two, or uncomfortably seated three. Currently, however, four torsos were waging war against the others in a struggle for neither wealth nor power nor a combination of the two, but for the excellent relaxation only a bench can provide. The man had arrived first, and refused to abdicate. The woman had just broken up with him, and could not leave in shame. The old woman’s back had gone out, and the young boy was merely bored.
A passerby, amused, watched this scene from the opposite bench, alone.
I'm back! Sort of. I'm taking a creative writing course this quarter, so I felt I should try and get back into the writing swing of things. As you can tell, I'm a bit rusty. 100 words are as cramped as a bench with four people on it.