Short Story: “A Bench in West London”

The real-life bench that inspired this story. Author’s photo. Something to consider when reading/listening: How fragile is our understanding of ourselves and those close to us? Are we only ever one

The real-life bench that inspired this story. Author’s photo.

Something to consider when reading/listening: How fragile is our understanding of ourselves and those close to us? Are we only ever one discovery away from reconsidering everything?

There’s a bench, in Eel Brook Common in West London, dedicated to the memory of a dog.

She gives us strict instructions that mum absolutely must not find out about the bench until her birthday the following week, because she wants it to be a surprise. But this becomes rather tricky when the tributes start rolling in on Facebook. Within hours, Mum’s wall is filled with people telling her they’ll miss her honesty, her rock cakes and her filthy sense of humor.

The council doesn’t do refunds, and if we want to change the plaque, they won’t be able to do it for at least two months.

The night before mum’s birthday, I don’t finish work until 1 AM, and then I only manage at most two hours sleep. I have to pick up the party food en route, from Lydia’s specialist caterer, it’s all gluten-free, dairy-free, sugar-free to conform with her definitely-not-made-up food intolerances.

The music switches to UB40’s “Red, Red Wine,” and Marcos and the actress playing mum grind against each other while the whole audience howls with laughter. And I realize the laughter is borne of recognition. They’re not laughing at what they’re seeing, they’re turning to each other, nodding to each other, in acknowledgment of what it represents. It’s a knowing laughter. A huge, hilarious in-joke.

[Doe Wilmann first released this piece on his short story podcast, Meaningless Problems.]

The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Fair Observer’s editorial policy.

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The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Fair Observer’s editorial policy.The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Fair Observer’s editorial policy.The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Fair Observer’s editorial policy.The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Fair Observer’s editorial policy.The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Fair Observer’s editorial policy.The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Fair Observer’s editorial policy.

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Short Story: “A Bench in West London”