Soon, a stranger came into the lense view, a nice looking fellow who clutched a brown paper bag and looked like he wasn't from around there. He came to sit on the bench beside Mark, offering him a smile before breaking off pieces of bread and tossing them to the pigeons as well.
They remained silent for a while, Mark turning the camera away and recording the people that passed by, or the birds as the fought for bread crumbs and the stranger just sitting back and enjoying himself in the sun. It was because of the silence that he had been so caught off guard to hear the other finally speak.
"You know, I've always preferred ducks." The other had said with a notable British accent. A few more breadcrumbs went to the birds.
Mark shrugged. "I--Ducks are alright. I've got pigeons back at my place, though." He laughed, almost a little embarrassed. "It's...a kind of a hobby of mine."
"Aside from filming, I presume?" The other questioned, gesturing to the camera.
Mark nodded, "Yeah, pretty much."
After that, they fell into a somewhat comfortable silence, until Mark finally decided that he'd had enough of the pidgeons for the day. Putting the camera back into his bag, Mark blinked at where the had once been and where a flock of confused ducks now stood
"Hey-" But before he could ask the stranger where the ducks had come from, the other man had risen and was embracing a younger looking fellow who was wearing black leather and sunglasses. He watched as they wrapped an arm around each other and shared a chuckle at something he didn't know.
Turning around, the one that had sat with him called out, "Give the ducks a chance, I find them to be much more pleasurable than any pigeons."
