I keep working on writing. I\u2019m at pains to even begin to describe myself as \u201ca writer\u201d\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Harry sits on the park bench. He\u2019s early. Biding time, he enjoys looking at the symmetry of the line of trees that spread out either side of the park\u2019s main pathway. A light breeze lifts the dying leaves off the branches of the trees. They add to the growing carpet of autumn colours laid out across the path. It\u2019s midday and deeply grey. The sky is almost as dark as the asphalt of the pathway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Harry grows frustrated as his attention diverts to the expressions upon the faces of the people walking through the park. It\u2019s a gripe of his autism that he finds particularly infuriating. Reading peoples\u2019 faces doesn\u2019t come easy to him. In fact, he\u2019s not sure it ever comes to him at all. He can tell the difference between a smile and a frown well enough. He has some talent in distinguishing between happy and sad but it\u2019s hard to put those two opposing expressions into greater context. People crying tears of joy, for example. The idea that anyone cries when they are happy perplexes Harry. He cries when he\u2019s angry or hurt, not when he\u2019s happy!<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Furrow-browed, he looks at his watch, then looks again at the pathway in front of him and sees Gary approaching. Gary smiles when he sees Harry waiting on the bench and waves enthusiastically. Taking a seat beside him he enquires, \u201cWhat\u2019s got into you today? You look like you\u2019ve swallowed a wasp. What\u2019s up?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI was watching people walk by and got pissed off that I can\u2019t work out what anyone\u2019s thinking. You know, the usual autistic crap I have to deal with. How do you do it, Gary? How do you know how people are feeling and what they\u2019re really thinking\u201d?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI don\u2019t, mate. I\u2019ve got no idea. I\u2019m just guessing. Here! See him, over there,\u201d pointing to a young man just to their left on the park\u2019s lawn, \u201cHe\u2019s thinking about bunking off work \u2018cause he can\u2019t be bothered to go in today. He can\u2019t be arsed.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI guess that\u2019s it, yeah. See, I wouldn\u2019t think of that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt\u2019s okay, Harry. I\u2019m just guessing, mate. It can be anything on that bloke\u2019s mind. He could be really buzzing inside. I don\u2019t know. And you don\u2019t need to worry about what others are thinking and feeling, either. You just need to worry about yourself, alright? Anyway, ya ready?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYeah.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cCome on then.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Both men stand up and begin walking towards the pathway. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I keep working on writing. I\u2019m at pains to even begin to describe myself as \u201ca writer\u201d\u2026 Harry sits on the park bench. He\u2019s early. Biding time, he enjoys looking at the symmetry of the line of trees that spread out either side of the park\u2019s main pathway. A light breeze lifts the dying leaves … <\/p>\n