The weird people

I’m at the park, sketching passersby and scenes. Two kids wander out of the rear exit of the carousel area near where I am sitting. Their dad finds them and says, “You better come back. You’ll get kidnapped. There are weird people out here.”

I think maybe this is a generic statement, but then I realize that I’m the only one in the vicinity at the moment, and it must look like I am drawing his children.

This identifies me as the weird people.

4 thoughts on “The weird people

  1. love this post. very interesting. reminds of me some lyrics, “i am a creep. i am a weirdo. what the hell am i doing here? i don’t belong here.”

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