SWINGING BENCH WAR JOURNAL

by Zahra Stevick, Bad Habits Editor

DAY ONE

Another cold, hard day. After class, I trudged forth hoping to alight upon the swinging bench, but all was for naught. Some vile soul had perched themselves upon it. O misery. Rue this day.

DAY TWO

Colder. Harder. Approaching the swinging bench, I saw it empty. What joys abounded in my soul! But as I walked I saw another approaching from the east. Hold fast, I told myself. Act as though you do not even desire it in truth. I picked up my pace, but was reluctant to dash, and my enemy was far closer than I. They seated themselves upon it and I was forced to change my course and pretend that had been my intention all along. Rue this day.

DAY THREE

Success! I have tasted victory and it is sweet. I secured my place upon the swinging bench and swung for many hours hence. It shall be mine forevermore.

DAY FOUR

Coldest. Hardest. Once again I walked toward my desired bench and saw the same enemy also walking in that vague direction. May their footsteps carry them away, I prayed, else may lightning strike them where they stand. Alas! They reached that swinging paradise before I could, and again I was forced to turn my path away, acting casual though my heart was shattered. Rue this day!

DAY FIVE

A strange twist in my sorrowful tale. Upon the swinging bench I sat, enjoying the fruits of my labors, when my enemy of these many days approached me and asked leave to sit beside me. We swung and spoke for a quarter of an hour in perfect harmony. What does this portend? Are we now to share the bench? Do I desire such? Curse this conflicted heart of mine!

DAY SIX

A day so hard and cold it could not be believed. Escaping class, I saw that same damnable soul approach our bench—my bench—and followed after, only to watch them sit beside another and swing together on those faded planks. O! The humanity!

DAY SEVEN

Mine enemy has inquired of me whether I might like to take part in their “poly cule.” Reported they often spend quality time together upon that fated bench. Am strongly considering.

DAY EIGHT

The bench is ours. O glorious day!