Doing Nothing

A riverside park. Morning. Yoshi is on a bench. Buru is asleep at his feet. One earbud in. A book is open in his lap but he isn't reading.

Yoshi “(to himself) …Nice day.”

Buru's ears twitch. A man Yoshi walks with — sixties, regular route — passes by.

Walking Companion “Oh, Yoshi. You're early today.”

Yoshi “Couldn't sleep.”

Walking Companion “Getting old.”

Yoshi “Getting old.”

Walking Companion “What were you reading?”

Yoshi “Not reading. Just had it open.”

Walking Companion “What were you doing then?”

Yoshi “Nothing.”

Walking Companion “You do that a lot now, don't you? Just sitting.”

Yoshi “I do.”

Walking Companion “Aren't you bored?”

Yoshi “Sure. But I've gotten okay with being bored. Just sitting in it. Couldn't do that before.”

Walking Companion “Ah… I think I get that.”

Yoshi “When I was teaching, if I had five free minutes I'd be prepping the next lesson. Now I have five free minutes — I just have five free minutes.”

Walking Companion “That's a luxury.”

Yoshi “Yeah. Took me long enough to notice.”

The walking buddy continues on. Yoshi opens his book again. Doesn't read. Buru sleeps. The song ends. Yoshi presses play and starts it again from the beginning.