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Literature Text
There was a park ranger who worked within helping tours around Yellowstone National Park, guiding the way for tourists who wanted to catch a glimpse of the surrounding geysers. While this park ranger obliged to send tourists alongside this park, he better enjoyed touring other people outside the outlying forests around the park itself. The silence of the soft branches brushing against each other whenever winds would pick up, the way the trees would cut shadows into the ground from the sunlight and the utter unpredictability of the journey always was much more refreshing to this park ranger than how the geyser would explode in just one instantaneous fashion.
Also his coworkers preferred him to tour the guests around the woodlands more often than the geyser, what with him being soft spoken and often not having words to say in regards to the geyser. many of the guests commented about how they would have a transcendental experience from listening to this park ranger talk in ends about how the trees around Yellowstone sway, just one of many minute details being carved into the mind of these guests made this park ranger almost seem like as if he lived in nature specifically.
That was also apparent by his social anxiety and awkwardness around other guests he would tour, almost seeming alien to other people despite being around so many day in and day out. His other coworkers could never really work out why he was such, assuming that having a job around being sociable would brake anyone's shell. His anxiety would rise significantly around women, specifically, those of his same age. His long entwined conversations about nature would get shattered and hesitant with every acute glance he made towards these women, whether in groups of other men and children or just alone. The way they look to him, the way their hair and eyelids contrast with the trees....
these thoughts would often have to be blocked out as he felt they were intruding on his job, and maybe he was right in some way. Awkwardness around other people as a park ranger and tour could obstruct focus on the schedule, so in spite of the anxiety, this park ranger would be so inclined and rigid to his job that you would think he was a workaholic. The way he would work like clockwork, guiding people whichever way he saw fit in order to best authenticate his abilities as a guide even if the guests felt like they were trapped onto a conveyor belt of a trail walk. Jokes and comments would either be disregarded or answered matter-of-factly by the ranger, trying desperately not to lose focus on the job at hand.
But somewhere down the line of his shift this rigid would bite him back in his ass, as the sun started to part closer to the dusk horizon, at least as much as you could see with all of the brush in Yellowstone. The geysters started to get a sort of golden aura with the way the light of the sun would break, as well as the trees, turning autumn just by the power of light. The number of guests leaving outgrew those coming, which meant fewer tours, fewer guides, and smaller groups. The ranger was still precisely and methodically taking guests by his hand on his motorized tour, one of which was his ultimate crux; a woman of his age. The way he just looked at her like as if being a piece of mundane mechanical equipment showed how he was utterly transfixed on being for work first, and the way that she didn't really seem to mind his mechanical pursuits also intimidated him.
And so he and this woman went out around his go to spot, the woods, where he would spout the usual nonsense that he did the other 100 times that day about it, his interest numbed by his work ethic. Even the brilliant sunset cascading the most intriguing shadows through the leaves could not trigger him any kind of empathy; he went cold and complicit with his robotism instead. And the way the woman continue to trudge all of his mundane misshaps continue to fight against his rigid, stoic work nature. Her questions about how long the pines have been around, how the trees are affected by the geysers afar, if he has a girlfriend, all of these things kept forcing him out of his comfort zone, to the point that he was building a inner, passive frustration that boiled and ticked at these comfort zones until he broke, unexpectedly at her.
"SURELY, If you'd want to know about fucking rocks or whatever you could go and look at our encyclopedia back at the reserve! Not poking around at me for the answers!" The Ranger jumped down, figuratively, into the girl's throat, turning abruptly with eyes popped open, accentuating his anger.
"Whoa! well... sure, I could, but I wanted to hear it from you. You make it sound more interesting." The Woman absconded, somewhat being careful with her words.
The Ranger blinked, almost frozen solid by her response, starting to realize the faulty of his violent reaction. Even with him being so rude and callous the woman still didn't falter by his words. The way she was so resilient to his attitude, the way her hair shined gold on the sunset....
The thoughts got pushed back again as reality settled. "Sorry...I....um....It's been a long day." Was all the ranger could say in retaliation, not wanting to fight. He slowly turned back, trying to retain his mechanical posture again.
"If you'd want, I could leave if I'm not worth the trouble." the woman said in the distance, making his back hairs stand on end, like as if he was shot in the back.
Turning back quickly again, he retorted, "Oh no! I'll be fine with telling you in great detail about all these rock layers, since i've inconvenienced you!" The Ranger cried out, trying not to be sarcastic about what he just said.
"Really? I mean, you look like you could take a break." the woman said sympathetically. The way she softly purred the word 'break' kind of slithered some darker thoughts back into his head. The way they could...
"No no! Come on, I got plenty of things to say about the age of these trees and their acrid sap!" The Ranger encouraged the woman, almost grabbing her by the hand until she showed herself towards the direction of these particular trees.
The comfort zone collapsed around him, braking in little bits whenever he and she would talk about something other than the trees. He could feel the way in which he was slowly slipping and melting into her and this environment, becoming as liquid as sap rather than being so rough as bark from earlier. His mind would make tugs and pulls here and there when the conversation got more interpersonal, but soon those too became soothing, him pulling along with the movements, almost making the park becoming his guide around everything.
The gold became dark orange and soon dark blue, and it was getting dark to the point that the ranger couldn't see his guide even being right in front of him. So he quickly derided her and him go back to the park entrance so she can head home and he can properly close out the park. The way that she was so close to him the entire time, holding his hand in hers in a subtle embrace for work ethic. He probably wouldn't care then, but he would probably have to explain it to his boss or coworkers of what was going on, even if that wasn't the way the rigid work structure was in this park. As he was about to tell her her goodbyes and usual thanks for visiting the park, she got closer to him than she had ever had before, right up to his face, to the point his comfort threshold was at maximum pressure. Unfortunately, he could not retaliate, she had him right in her grasp, frozen and succumbed to the way her eyes look at him daringly, and the way she gave him a soft kiss and whispered something seductively in his ear, the way he felt as though he was an entirely different person from earlier today, all he could do was stand there as she walked away with the perchance of seeing him again. And once his head finally cleared and managed to regain his composure, closing out his park and heading home with a state of either absolute fear or absolute joy, he just thought that maybe that working like a socially depraved workaholic wasn't the only way to win your own battles.
It certainly wasn't for me.
Also his coworkers preferred him to tour the guests around the woodlands more often than the geyser, what with him being soft spoken and often not having words to say in regards to the geyser. many of the guests commented about how they would have a transcendental experience from listening to this park ranger talk in ends about how the trees around Yellowstone sway, just one of many minute details being carved into the mind of these guests made this park ranger almost seem like as if he lived in nature specifically.
That was also apparent by his social anxiety and awkwardness around other guests he would tour, almost seeming alien to other people despite being around so many day in and day out. His other coworkers could never really work out why he was such, assuming that having a job around being sociable would brake anyone's shell. His anxiety would rise significantly around women, specifically, those of his same age. His long entwined conversations about nature would get shattered and hesitant with every acute glance he made towards these women, whether in groups of other men and children or just alone. The way they look to him, the way their hair and eyelids contrast with the trees....
these thoughts would often have to be blocked out as he felt they were intruding on his job, and maybe he was right in some way. Awkwardness around other people as a park ranger and tour could obstruct focus on the schedule, so in spite of the anxiety, this park ranger would be so inclined and rigid to his job that you would think he was a workaholic. The way he would work like clockwork, guiding people whichever way he saw fit in order to best authenticate his abilities as a guide even if the guests felt like they were trapped onto a conveyor belt of a trail walk. Jokes and comments would either be disregarded or answered matter-of-factly by the ranger, trying desperately not to lose focus on the job at hand.
But somewhere down the line of his shift this rigid would bite him back in his ass, as the sun started to part closer to the dusk horizon, at least as much as you could see with all of the brush in Yellowstone. The geysters started to get a sort of golden aura with the way the light of the sun would break, as well as the trees, turning autumn just by the power of light. The number of guests leaving outgrew those coming, which meant fewer tours, fewer guides, and smaller groups. The ranger was still precisely and methodically taking guests by his hand on his motorized tour, one of which was his ultimate crux; a woman of his age. The way he just looked at her like as if being a piece of mundane mechanical equipment showed how he was utterly transfixed on being for work first, and the way that she didn't really seem to mind his mechanical pursuits also intimidated him.
And so he and this woman went out around his go to spot, the woods, where he would spout the usual nonsense that he did the other 100 times that day about it, his interest numbed by his work ethic. Even the brilliant sunset cascading the most intriguing shadows through the leaves could not trigger him any kind of empathy; he went cold and complicit with his robotism instead. And the way the woman continue to trudge all of his mundane misshaps continue to fight against his rigid, stoic work nature. Her questions about how long the pines have been around, how the trees are affected by the geysers afar, if he has a girlfriend, all of these things kept forcing him out of his comfort zone, to the point that he was building a inner, passive frustration that boiled and ticked at these comfort zones until he broke, unexpectedly at her.
"SURELY, If you'd want to know about fucking rocks or whatever you could go and look at our encyclopedia back at the reserve! Not poking around at me for the answers!" The Ranger jumped down, figuratively, into the girl's throat, turning abruptly with eyes popped open, accentuating his anger.
"Whoa! well... sure, I could, but I wanted to hear it from you. You make it sound more interesting." The Woman absconded, somewhat being careful with her words.
The Ranger blinked, almost frozen solid by her response, starting to realize the faulty of his violent reaction. Even with him being so rude and callous the woman still didn't falter by his words. The way she was so resilient to his attitude, the way her hair shined gold on the sunset....
The thoughts got pushed back again as reality settled. "Sorry...I....um....It's been a long day." Was all the ranger could say in retaliation, not wanting to fight. He slowly turned back, trying to retain his mechanical posture again.
"If you'd want, I could leave if I'm not worth the trouble." the woman said in the distance, making his back hairs stand on end, like as if he was shot in the back.
Turning back quickly again, he retorted, "Oh no! I'll be fine with telling you in great detail about all these rock layers, since i've inconvenienced you!" The Ranger cried out, trying not to be sarcastic about what he just said.
"Really? I mean, you look like you could take a break." the woman said sympathetically. The way she softly purred the word 'break' kind of slithered some darker thoughts back into his head. The way they could...
"No no! Come on, I got plenty of things to say about the age of these trees and their acrid sap!" The Ranger encouraged the woman, almost grabbing her by the hand until she showed herself towards the direction of these particular trees.
The comfort zone collapsed around him, braking in little bits whenever he and she would talk about something other than the trees. He could feel the way in which he was slowly slipping and melting into her and this environment, becoming as liquid as sap rather than being so rough as bark from earlier. His mind would make tugs and pulls here and there when the conversation got more interpersonal, but soon those too became soothing, him pulling along with the movements, almost making the park becoming his guide around everything.
The gold became dark orange and soon dark blue, and it was getting dark to the point that the ranger couldn't see his guide even being right in front of him. So he quickly derided her and him go back to the park entrance so she can head home and he can properly close out the park. The way that she was so close to him the entire time, holding his hand in hers in a subtle embrace for work ethic. He probably wouldn't care then, but he would probably have to explain it to his boss or coworkers of what was going on, even if that wasn't the way the rigid work structure was in this park. As he was about to tell her her goodbyes and usual thanks for visiting the park, she got closer to him than she had ever had before, right up to his face, to the point his comfort threshold was at maximum pressure. Unfortunately, he could not retaliate, she had him right in her grasp, frozen and succumbed to the way her eyes look at him daringly, and the way she gave him a soft kiss and whispered something seductively in his ear, the way he felt as though he was an entirely different person from earlier today, all he could do was stand there as she walked away with the perchance of seeing him again. And once his head finally cleared and managed to regain his composure, closing out his park and heading home with a state of either absolute fear or absolute joy, he just thought that maybe that working like a socially depraved workaholic wasn't the only way to win your own battles.
It certainly wasn't for me.
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