Pretty Strangers

001

(Y/N)'s POV

I was sat on a small wall by our towns local library, the surrounding area being tokened as the "plaza". everyone from all over the town gathered here for absolutely no reason. some came to do homework, some came to drink coffee and chat, some came for picnics, some came to practice skating or play the guitar.

i myself came to draw. i'm a 2nd year in uni, majoring in the arts (drawing and painting) and minoring in photography. our professor had given us a prompt: go out among the world and find a stranger, someone you have never spoken too, and sketch something about them visually, then attempt to speak with this stranger, and paint a final project of how you think of them after. sadly, most people in this town were what you'd find anywhere in the UK.

"Chavs" and "Roadmen" littered around me, some glaring at the fact i did indeed have a light cigarette in my mouth. i move to sit in a criss-cross style, my longboard infront of me with my tote ontop of it. as i survey the area a final time, my eyes land on a man about a good 100 feet away, maybe less.

he seems to be tall, which i can only assume as he's hunched over in the grass over a guitar. he had curly brown hair, and donned a beige jumper, a white collared shirt under that, a pair of lighter corduroy pants, and white high top converse. at the time, i am unable to see his face.

he gives off the vibes of a person you'd see at a bookstore or a coffee shop and never forget about, then constantly return to that place to find him again. a perfect model for my project. i reach into my tote, pulling out a rather large sketch pad, a simple wooden pencil and sharpener, and a compact watercolour pallet.

extinguishing my cigarette and tossing the butt in the waste bin next to me, i begin sketching. i try to make it as detailed, yet simplistic as possible. focusing mainly on his sitting position, guitar, and fact you couldn't see his face from my angle.

a good maybe 20 minutes pass, the mystery man is still sat in the same spot, and i had just finished the sketch, and added a bit of colour. if i recall correctly, my professor said to approach this stranger and hand them the drawing, after taking a picture of it to submit to the class, to help start up a topic for conversation. which is exactly what i planned on doing. i hop off my perch, pull my tote over my shoulder, hook my long board under my arm, and make in the way of this mystery man.

as i draw closer, i can practically feel the stress off this guy. he was muttering under his breath about how'd he'd been going on for hours, and needed a break, but desperately needed to finish this song. i feel like stepping in the way of his thoughts at the moment was probably the best thing i could do.

"um, pardon me."