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ASK AND YE SHALL RECEIVE

I do not know how long he had been there. At the time, I was just getting out of a particularly long meeting. As it was just after noon, I had planned on eating my lunch on one of the much abused benches that lined the park. I had barely arrived when the bustling tranquility of the day was broken by a very loud, and very odd, cry.

It traveled quickly, startling a flock of small brown birds from a hedge and sending them flying in confusion. It moved farther, becoming a faint echo as it did so, barely audible enough for anyone to hear or notice, before disappearing completely. Then there was another shout just like the first. This one had less impact on the world at large, although it still drew curious looks from passers by.

"WAFFLES!" the little man yelled again, his bald head reflecting the light that filtered through the trees. He was definitely American; his features failed to hint at any single ethnic origin. He was short with pasty skin and an un-athletic frame. He was wearing a once white bathrobe that was spotted and threadbare. The edges of a pair of grime ridden jeans with old sneakers peaked out from under the hem. "Waffles!" he yelled again, his face looking up into the overcast sky, insistent, and impatient.

I walked up to one of the benches and sat down, unfolding my sandwich from it's cling wrap. I watched the man shouting at the sky with the curious detachment that seems so easy to assume in the face of apparent insanity. A group of crows were grazing at an abandoned bag of corn chips in the grass nearby, and one landed beside me and cocked it's head. I guarded my lunch carefully, but this did not prevent it from watching anyway.

"WAFFLES!" The man yelled again, his eyes ignoring everything except something just beyond the clouds. As he shouted an old woman with a cane hobbled past, her back bent and her arthritic hands clutching an old cane. She studiously ignored him, and he ignored her, again yelling "WAFFLES!" to someone or something only he could see.

I ate my lunch quickly. He stood there, perfectly still, shouting over and over again at the sky. As he did so, some people stopped and gawked at him, their mouths hanging open. Others merely smirked or raised an eyebrow as they went on their way. Most simply ignored him, just as he ignored them.

Although the man's presence was curiosity, I was both attracted and repulsed by his presence. As I got ready to leave I decided to stay clear of the park for a while, and find another

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