Decor Loiter

This was much better. Out of the heavy traffic. Let them knock themselves silly. Let them race. Let them puff chests. Let them run to the crack of a gun. Raised the glass which contained one more swig of the not-bad house ale. Cast eye of survey in search of she who served this glass, because the easiest decision he could ever make was to order a second glass.

But no sign of the server. Suspended breath and the last gulp. Silence everywhere. Even on the walkway, no players coming by. No curses born of good-humored competitiveness for having to go back the number of steps determined by a dice throw.

"Not the best time to suddenly wonder if I am alone here. But I can't be alone. I know I heard the server and the bartender talking about local news, exchanging giggle and chuckle. And I would really like another glass."

Sun had graduated to a position the umbrella he sat under could not protect him from; couldn't hardly see anything, except the table, the piece of paper with a couple words, as he fancied himself poetic; but even the paper (and of course the pen) seemed like wavy versions of anything like a concrete reality; like all was a gigantic pool or pond and all that might seem like independent forms was only illusion playing floating fragments; could easily dissipate, merge back into the waters, or what some of those intellectual psychologists would call something like a collective unconscious or an all-that-is.

Good news came in the body restoring sense of vision to what was believed to be the norm, as the body blocked the sun's glare and he could see paper, pen, his hand, the table, and the shrubs lining the walkway. Came also the clatter and clack of dice, and yes, there came a new token given permission to advance what looked like two spaces.

Bad news came in the reason for the body's nearness to the table. Worse news was cold authority and voice; spoken words confirming the coldness.

"Loitering is forbidden. Unless you have express written permission."

"I was tired of the game but this lovely patio was here. Serving beer. I saw no sign forbidding-"

"Quitting the game requires exiting the premises. Hope you marked your last space."

"Actually I lost a couple turns and that's when I noticed this patio. I didn't want to play the game in the first place. If I could have just one more glass of house ale, and then I will, as you say, Exit the premises."

"This is for atmosphere! Decor! Sitting amid the decor is not permitted!"

The next dice throw went wild.

Only the walkway buffer-shrub caught and stopped the dice rolling wildly wayward, sparing monitor and loiterer.