Text A: The Great Proposal

At 8.02 on Monday morning, the City of Bellwether announced its boldest plan yet: a new public bench. The bench would stand beside the river, where commuters already waited for a bus that arrived whenever it felt “inspired”. A spokesperson said the project would “transform the everyday experience of all residents”. The announcement included an artist’s impression of a bench beneath a tree. The tree, it later emerged, was not part of the plan. Nor was the footpath leading to it. Residents were invited to share feedback through an online portal that required an account, a password of at least twelve characters and proof of residence. The portal closed at 8.03 am. By lunchtime, the council’s newsletter described the consultation as “a lively success”. The bench had not yet been built, but the spokesperson was pleased that the community had been “given a seat at the table”.

Text B: The Great Proposal (as told by the bench)

I was announced at 8.02 on Monday morning, which is when benches usually begin their careers. The council called me a bold plan. I was flattered; I had always thought of myself as more of a plank with ambitions. They promised I would transform everyone’s everyday experience. I pictured commuters sitting comfortably beside the river. Then I learnt the bus was still arriving whenever it felt inspired, and the tree in my artist’s impression was apparently a freelance extra. The footpath had not been cast either. Residents were invited to comment on my future through an online portal. I cannot type, being a bench, but even I noticed it needed an account, a twelve-character password and proof that you lived nearby. The portal closed one minute after my announcement. What a lively conversation we had. At lunch, the council said the community had been given a seat at the table. I hope they meant a table outdoors. I am still waiting to be assembled; the table, meanwhile, is already booked for the next consultation.

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