IR Watteau

In the light of the moon, James Galt sat in a swing motionless with a blank expression upon his youthful fourteen year old face. He was at the park again, which was across the street from the duplex he shared with his absentee mother, Carole. He was lost in thought staring at the ground when he decided to make another sweep of his surroundings. He didn't live in the safest part of town. So it made sense to always be a little cautious.
Lifting his head, he swept his gaze slowly from left to right. He could see now that he was no longer alone in the park. A group of five older boys was approaching him from his 9 o'clock. He didn't recognize them, but he could tell they were intent upon him. With malicious eyes, they drew near. To remove himself from their path would only hasten their arrival and heighten their harassment. That's just the way it went in this part of town.
Looking elsewhere, Galt spotted another figure in the park. It was a man in a heavy trench coat with a matching fedora. He too had his attention fixed upon Galt. Returning his gaze to the approaching pack of boys, Galt wondered if there was a correlation between the two parties in the park. But as far as he could tell... there was none.
Leave the area
Stay in the swing