What’s The Story?
Thursday. The lunch hour. I’m walking by Plattsburgh City Hall when I spot two men at the bottom of the front steps. There’s something about the way they’re posed that strikes me as odd. One man wearing a maroon hoodie has his foot up on one step as if he suddenly suspended his ascension. They both face the building but seem to be talking to each other, sideways communication.
Some time later I walk by again. I notice that a woman wearing a red shirt has joined the two men, a trio now facing city hall. Each head is bowed down.
I doubled back, passing closer to the mysterious trio. Their voices are low; I can’t hear what they’re saying. I think about asking them about what they’re doing, but it seems such a personal moment that I don’t want to interrupt.
So what’s the story? I speculate. Maybe it’s a small protest. Or a moment to memorialize a dead friend.
If not, what could it be? Turning aside ordinary explanations, I unleash my imagination. Did they each take turns reading memorized passages from the Necronomicon, hoping to call forth Cthulhu and the other Old Ones? Or was it only a prayer of thanks to the Great God Kasprzak?
If it was a serious moment, my apologies. But look at it from my POV: why would three people engage in such a puzzling public act?