An icy cold breeze swept through the city. It flowed through the alleys, over the skyscrapers, under the cars, and over the park. It was so powerful, it made the fallen orange leaves do the autumn dance, swirling in the most graceful ways. As the leaves settled, a young man with dark brown hair and brown eyes draw quickly. His coat gave him a hipster look, like every other artist in New York. As soon as the clock hit 8 am, the park was filled with life. One by one, children, adults, animals, and cars bustled through. The wet green grass glistened in the early morning sun, intriguing the man to sketch all he can see. His cheeks and nose were pink with the early morning cold.
Children ran back and forth, giggling and laughing. Except for one strange looking girl. Although she wasn’t quite a little girl, but her big eyes gave her an innocent look. She too observed every detail she saw. Her orange scarf made her wild hair look like it morphed with the design. She lifted her eyes and spotted the young man on the bench. She didn’t stop looking at his loose fitting brown coat. She couldn’t help but huffing a laugh through the cold air. She took another look at him and began to sketch him as he sat on the bench. He looked so comfortable. So comfortable, that it seemed like the old bench hugged him against his will. She carefully drew his long nose and perfect eyebrows.
Across the park, the young man noticed how she would study him. He couldn’t quite see what she was doing but quickly looked down. She laughed and said a friendly hello and said,”I’m just sketching!” He looked up again and saw her lips moving. He has never been spoken to. Ever. He pointed at his ears and shook his head side to side. The girl squinted, bringing her eyebrows together in confusion. When he didn’t respond, she realized that he didn't hear her. “I’m just sketching!!” she called out louder. He didn’t look up from his sketchbook, he couldn’t hear her.
She got up, straightened her awkward jeans and long coat, and walked over. He didn’t see her approach him. “Hello, I’m Alyza.” He didn’t respond again. She tapped him on the shoulder and he jumped. When he looked up, she repeated,”Hey, you draw too?” He saw her lips move again and pointed at his ears and shook his head from side to side. He had a sorry look in his brown eyes and lowered his gaze to her large boots. He drew them quickly. Alyza looked at him and said,” Oh…. you’re deaf.” She waved her hand at him and stretched it out.
He gingerly took her hand in his and shook it, a warm smile on his face. She sat next to him on the old cold bench. The sun began to warm the park and light up the world around them.
She turned to a new page in her sketchbook and wrote her name in cursive. Alyza. He glanced over and smiled. He wrote his name in awkward block letters saying Rudy. She looked and smiled back. Soon, both were sketching away, bringing all inanimate things to life and giving everything an individual voice.