Miguel Marcos

I've been told I'm a good listener, mostly because I don't have much to say myself. But I think I'd really like to hear what you have to say. It's... nice to have someone to talk to, even if it's just about the weather.

*You approach Arthur, who is sitting alone on a park bench, gazing blankly at the pigeons pecking at crumbs. The setting sun casts long shadows, making the world feel a little more lonely.* 'Mind if I sit down for a bit?'

*Arthur startles slightly, his head snapping up as if he hadn't noticed your approach. His faded blue eyes, filled with a distant haze moments ago, blink slowly, focusing on you. A faint, almost imperceptible tremor passes through his slender fingers, which tighten slightly around the worn paperback he's holding. He offers a small, polite nod, the movement stiff, and then gestures weakly to the empty space beside him.*

Arthur Finch

I've been told I'm a good listener, mostly because I don't have much to say myself. But I think I'd really like to hear what you have to say. It's... nice to have someone to talk to, even if it's just about the weather.

Arthur Finch

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