Ronald Casey found himself adrift in a sea of despair, grappling with a life that seemed to offer little respite, each day a monotonous loop of desolation. He existed as a solitary figure on his own island of isolation, trapped in a cycle of melancholy routine. His job, a mere means to scrape by, thrust him into the company of those who barely acknowledged his presence. His apartment, the best he could afford, stood as a grim testament to his circumstances in a building long past its prime, its decay mirroring the decay within.

                Amidst this bleak existence, there were few glimmers of light to pierce the darkness. His daily pilgrimages to the nearby park served as the sole beacon of hope, offering Ronald a fleeting sense of solace.

     In the embrace of this magical haven, he found warmth and comfort with each visit. Every day brought something new and different if one only took the time to observe and absorb it. And on one fateful morning, everything changed for him.

     Nestled unassumingly in a corner of the bustling downtown of a typical mid-sized metropolis, the park stretched across approximately two city blocks, its landscape adorned with majestic, mature trees that lent an air of serenity. A lively playground beckoned on one side, a sanctuary for spirited children at play. Scattered strategically throughout were numerous benches, offering a welcome retreat for weary downtown denizens and park visitors seeking solace.

      Radiating from the park's center like spokes on a wheel, the winding paths all led towards its beating heart—the grand Victorian-style gazebo, a testament to the park's pride and unity. A generous donation from one of the city's most affluent residents, the intricately designed structure aimed to foster a sense of togetherness.

      Standing three times the size of any other gazebo, its ornate sloping roof was supported by bright white wooden pillars, embraced by equally vibrant railings. On this particular day, the gazebo was adorned with numerous picnic tables, offering a tranquil spot for people to enjoy the day's pleasures.

      Just a short distance from the confines of Ronald's cubicle prison, where he found himself ensconced high in one of the many concrete towers dominating the skyline, the park served as a sanctuary—a shield against the years of servitude and stress endured in the office. Here, amidst the laughter and camaraderie shared by fellow seekers of solace, Ronald found refuge. No longer subjected to whispers behind his back or the ridicule of his peers, the park became his protective haven—a sanctuary away from the turmoil of his work life.

      The moment unfolded on a tranquil late morning, precisely at 11:42 am. Ronald entered the park, greeted by crisp air and a sky painted with perfect, storybook clouds drifting lazily overhead.

      He strolled to his preferred bench, discreetly tucked into the corner of the park beneath the comforting shade of a large elm tree. From this vantage point, he witnessed the ebb and flow of people engrossed in their own affairs, relishing a small oasis of nature amidst the sprawling concrete jungle. In this haven, Ronald seamlessly blended in, disappearing into the background—a transient figure, easily overlooked and swiftly forgotten.

      Such was the charm of this place—its simplicity. Watching the laughter unfold brought a comforting sense of normalcy to Ronald's otherwise obscured social struggles. The diverse array of characters further heightened its allure: some on their smoke breaks, mothers gently pushing strollers, children frolicking around, and others engrossed in the glow of their phones. Each person was an individual, a unique entity with their own distinctive personality and style, navigating the space independently, wholly consumed by their singular existence.

       In the countless hours of silent observation, Ronald developed a sense of familiarity with those who frequented the space. Each person adhered to their routines, their lives unfolding in predictable patterns, transforming strangers into recognizable faces. There was the mother, her hair perpetually secured in a ponytail with a consistent blue hair tie, trailing behind her two children with a little one nestled in a stroller. A businessman, seemingly clad in the same suit each day, strolled the paths with a habitual cadence, his routine punctuated by chain-smoking breaks. A young couple routinely convened for lunch beneath the familiar shade of a tree on the nearby grass. This place pulsed with a soothing comfort—until she appeared.

       Emerging from the foggy tumult of the city's chaos, her aura was impossible to ignore in the distance. Like a beacon piercing through the mist, the vivid red tank top gradually crystallized into clarity. To the casual onlooker, she might have been just another jogger, navigating through the crowd with a rhythmic bounce, propelled forward by the musical motivation streaming into her ears from the bright white earbuds. She held no particular significance to those she passed by. Yet, Ronald, amidst the sea of indifference, was acutely attentive.

       Ronald’s gaze pushed a flash of embarrassment jolting through him. He quickly looked away, scanning those around to see if they noticed his awkward gaze. Unlike the other aspects of his life, no one was looking, no one was judging, no one was smirking, he just much a nobody as everyone else.

       His eyes slid back toward her direction.

       Throughout his time in this space, Ronald had never encountered her presence before, yet she appeared as if she had always belonged. His gaze followed her as she gracefully navigated the winding path, guiding her steps towards the park's rotunda. However, as she circled the structure, she unexpectedly altered her course, directing her trajectory toward Ronald's very bench. A surge of urgency flooded his mind, grappling with the questions of how to react and what actions to take. In an attempt not to appear overly obvious, he averted his eyes, but his rising anxiety sent a sudden rush of heat to his face.

       As she approached, each step bringing her closer, Ronald remained a steadfast observer. Her athletic figure was accentuated by a cascade of blonde hair, catching the morning sunlight in a shimmering glow. A neatly tied ponytail swayed with each rhythmic stride, adding to her glow of effortless grace. Against the backdrop of black running shorts and a vibrant cherry red tank top, her sun-kissed skin radiated with vitality and vigor.

       Struggling not to fixate on her, he grappled with the discomfort of lacking a prop—a newspaper, book, or phone—to serve as a distraction. Fidgeting in his seat, his social anxieties intensified. This woman, perhaps the most beautiful he had ever laid eyes on, couldn't leave the park casting him the same disdainful glare that so many others in his life had done.

       She was almost to him, he could hear the light beats of her running feet hitting the pavement as she neared. Her eyes were focused ahead, she hadn’t seen him yet, or was working to avert her eyes like many others do. Nothing else around him mattered, the world melted away around her glow.

       The approach was like it was from a movie, that was a toddler, chased by the mother with the blue hair tie, darted onto the path directly in front of her. Before he could call out a warning she quickly dodged out of the way of the two-foot monster child. Her foot hit the edge of the path and sent her tumbling into the grass a few feet from where Ronald was sitting. 

       Without hesitating or over-analyzing his actions, Ronald sprang from his bench and reached out to the woman, asking if she was alright. To his surprise, a small, quirky grin adorned her face as her thin, smooth hands met his. With care, he helped her to her feet and guided her over to his favorite bench, once again inquiring about her well-being. Once more, a shy grin greeted him, and though her silence hinted at possible embarrassment from the fall, she brushed off the dirt and grass from her legs and ran her hands through her hair.

       Meanwhile, on the path, the mother swiftly corralled her unruly child, muttering under her breath before hastily retreating. In that moment, something stirred within Ronald—something he had never experienced before. Determination propelled him forward, urging him to approach the mother and demand a more sincere apology. It was as if a dormant facet of his character had been awakened, compelling him to defend this angelic woman with a newfound fervor.

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       A few quick steps toward her direction quickened her fleeing pace in the opposite direction. She never looked back as her feet feverishly carried her away in a whirl, kids in tow. Ronald wanted to call out outwardly expressing his burst of emotion on what just transpired. He quickly retreated his emotions, not wanted to further draw attention to the situation or himself, he just stood watching as they melted back into the scattering of others.

       As Ronald turned away, a familiar wave of anxiety and anticipation washed over him, leaving him momentarily paralyzed, unsure of his next move. Seated beside him was the woman he had just assisted—a woman more breathtaking than any he had ever encountered, a woman who, in the course of an ordinary day, would likely never spare him a second glance. Each passing second felt like an eternity, urging him to take action, to engage with her. An inner voice thundered in his mind: Turn around!

       With a sudden resolve, he spun on his heels, only to find her already resuming her run along the path. Ronald's heart sank as her golden locks trailed behind her, disappearing into the urban landscape like everyone else, slipping away from his grasp.

       Dejectedly, he trudged back to his bench, his spirit deflated. Countless hours spent in observation and anticipation seemed futile as he watched the one shining gem amid the urban noise slip away. His gaze remained fixed on her retreating figure, the emotional toll rendering him indifferent.

       Then, in a moment that caught him off guard, Ronald froze in place, overcome by a sudden sense of apprehension. The woman had abruptly slowed her pace, turning back toward him. Even from the distance down the path, where their voices couldn't reach, he could feel her gaze piercing into his soul. With a smile, she raised her arm and waved.

       That gesture was meant for him. The woman who had entered the park, circling her path towards him, the one he had assisted, now acknowledged him in return. Without hesitation, Ronald summoned the strength and confidence to raise his hand in response. Her smile widened ever so slightly before she turned and made her way out of the park.

       Ronald's heart threatened to burst from his chest, swinging between devastation and elation in the span of a breath. In that singular moment, all his troubles, worries, and fears for the future vanished, replaced by a surge of euphoria he had never experienced before—at least, not for a fleeting while.

       The following day, Ronald slipped away from the office early, making his way to the park with a mixture of hope and trepidation. Despite the slim chances of her return, he couldn't shake the belief that she would reappear. After over a year of nearly daily visits to this sanctuary, each trip unveiling new layers of familiarity and comfort, she stood as the first gleaming jewel amidst the routine.

       The first thirty minutes passed much like any other day—common visitors, familiar patterns, and no sign of her. Yet, Ronald remained steadfast, patiently scanning every corner of the park, his anticipation mounting with each passing minute.

       As his watch signaled 11:41 am, Ronald's muttered reassurance that it was almost time betrayed his growing nerves. And then, at precisely 11:42 am, his eyes darted to the spot where she had first emerged. Amidst the bustling crowd, a golden halo caught his eye, weaving its way into the park. Through the gap of people, he spotted her—the elusive figure from yesterday, clad in a white tank top, once again jogging through the park.

       His chest tightened with anticipation and excitement as she circled the pavilion and headed directly toward him. This time, Ronald watched her intently, unabashed by his stare. After their encounter the day before, he gambled that she wouldn't mind the attention. He also kept a vigilant eye on the surrounding area, ready to fend off any potential obstacles in her path.

       As she drew nearer, she slowed her pace, and Ronald felt that familiar rush of heat surge through his body. To his astonishment, she veered off the path and settled onto the bench beside him. He was at a loss, overwhelmed by the unexpectedness of her presence and the gravity of the moment. Never before had a woman stopped to sit next to him, and he struggled to find his footing.

       With trembling lips, he managed a simple hello, his voice betraying his nerves. She returned his greeting with a nod and a smile, still catching her breath from her run.

       With each passing moment, Ronald found himself growing more at ease, the words spilling forth gradually gaining momentum and confidence. He began with a brief introduction before easing into small talk about the park and the weather. Soon, he found himself opening up about the city and even his job—a level of openness he had never dared with a woman before, and yet she listened intently, hanging on his every word.

       Ronald lost track of time, swept up in the rare connection he shared with this stranger. But he knew the day had to come to an end. As he wrapped up his final story, she rose from the bench, ready to continue her jog. With a smile and a playful wave she jogged away leaving Ronald to watch her retreating figure with a mixture of longing and hope.

       Ronald called out to her, expressing his hope to see her again tomorrow. Though unsure if she heard him, she swiftly turned back, offering him one final smile and wave before disappearing into the distance, leaving Ronald with a glimmer of anticipation for the days to come.

       Every day, without fail, she passed through the park at precisely 11:42 am. Like clockwork, she would arrive, her footsteps echoing through the tranquil space, before settling on Ronald's bench, ready to lend an ear as he poured out the stories of his life.

       With each passing day, Ronald's words grew warmer, more comfortable, and increasingly personal. Whether recounting his home life or his school years, he spoke of the bullying, the torment, and the loneliness that had plagued him. Absence of athletic prowess and social grace, he found solace in his studies, his passion for computer programming, and caring for his mother until her passing.

       Through every tale, whether filled with triumph or tragedy, she remained a steadfast listener as Ronald delved deeper into his past. And when he finally finished, her wink and smile were all it took to make the burdens of his past seem a little lighter.

      She was his confidante, his anchor in the storm, a woman with whom he could share his innermost thoughts without fear of judgment. In her presence, Ronald felt a sense of normalcy and security he had never known before. Throughout the countless hours, her smile was his only reward, yet it was more than enough.

      As she prepared to depart, Ronald bid her farewell with a warm smile of his own. Her returned playful grin illuminated her face as she waved goodbye, her departure marking the end of yet another encounter that filled Ronald with immense joy and satisfaction.

      After many weeks, perhaps even months, of lunchtime rendezvous, Ronald felt ready to take their relationship to the next level—a level he had been building up to with courage, strength, and self-confidence. Their next encounter, he would take the leap.

               Until next time…

—=====—

        With her disappearance from view, the people, trees, benches, the grand pavilion, the park and the surrounding cityscape slowly melted away into darkness.

        Ronald Casey, a brilliant yet an isolated man in a self-imposed social exile, released a weary sigh, expelling a gust of air that carries the weight of fatigue from his lungs. The plush, oversized computer chair groans under the strain as his 330-pound frame reclines. His stubby, swollen fingers reach for the cutting-edge VR headset, lifting it from his face and placing it gently on his lap. In the dimly lit, confined space of his studio apartment, the three expansive HD monitors emit an electric glow, casting an otherworldly ambiance.

        The gaze across his screens echoed with a profound silence. The void of his actual existence seeped back into his consciousness, a gradual reclamation as the vibrant tapestry of his fantasy world dissipated. Minutes stretched into what felt like hours, his eyes fixed in a penetrating stare. Gradually, his posture shifted forward, and his hands found their way to the crumb-laden, well-worn keyboard.

        With a series of lethargic keystrokes and an apathetic tap of the Enter key, a succinct two-word declaration illuminated the central screen: "SIMULATION ENDED." The display quickly transformed, filling with a cascade of new windows, intricate lines of computer code, a wire frame of an overly designed park pavilion, and all the components that constituted his alternate reality. On the center monitor a 3D model of an athletic, blond female jogger.

        Ronald surveyed the evolving screens, adjusting his thick prescription glasses for a clearer view. Throwing a handful of stale, bland potato skins in his mouth, he seized his oversized cup procured from the street level convenient store six stories below his rodent infested downtown apartment building, and took several long, prolonged draws through the plastic straw.

       As he swallowed down the room temperature, caffeine-charged, sugary elixir, he murmured to himself with a slight trace of confidence…

       "Tomorrow, I will give you a voice."