A mans sits in the middle of the park. Brooding, perhaps. It’s snowing, not so heavily but enough to be wrapped up. He wasn’t wrapped up. He was dressed moderately.
Not how you dress in December, not in this side of the country. His head, bowed down. Thinking, perhaps. He’s surrounded by children. They play, loudly. Occasional screams; nothing loud enough to break his concentration. No.
Yes, he’s thinking now. So much so, he doesn’t notice the child sitting next to him. The child is properly dressed for the weather but still, feels the sting of the December winter. It’s really cold.