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I'm writing a short story, and need to avoid excessive use of a subject. Using he, his, or the man will get very repetitive over time since the character has no name. I'm hoping to find some way to make a subject only need to be declared a few times per page. I don't mind breaking some rules of the English language to get the desired result; I just need to avoid confusing the reader.

A man sits alone on a bench, a peach in one hand, a spoon in the other. What an odd and wonderful day to be sitting on a bench, at least until it drizzles. He wipes off some fuzz; the peach fur is pleasant to feel, chemicals n'all.

At his feet lies a puddle with a mustache, bushy brows, and a peanut-sized nose. The peach reveals itself as wetter than a bad snog; his pants accept sponging duty. With swift realization, the man jumps, and swahpps his pants.

Leaving the peach held in his jaw, he reaches into his coat pocket for a hanky; all recollection of its' earlier activities seem to have stayed in his pocket. The expression on his face is that of man who has just done something incredibly daft, and realizes it. The peach is happily dripping across his chin; his pants still on active duty. A women walks past, and cringes in a very lol-cat like fashion.

As you can see in this little piece alone there are 14 instances, way too many.

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The pronouns do not feel repetitive to me at all. Whichever novel you read, it will have an endless row of hes or shes or Is throughout the text. It is the common and therefore neutral way, and does not stand out or annoy. Only "the man" may get repetitive, because we are used to reading a person's name, usually once per paragraph. But if you keep "the man" to once per paragraph, too, it certainly wouldn't irritate me.

As your paragraph stands, it is perfectly fine to me.

Still, if for some reason you want to reduce the hes and the mans, I'd switch to present continous where it is possible:

A man sits Sitting alone on a bench, a peach in one hand, a spoon in the other. What an odd and wonderful day to be sitting on a bench, at least until it drizzles. The man he wipes off some fuzz; the peach fur is pleasant to feel, chemicals n'all. At his feet lies a puddle A puddle lies with a mustache, bushy brows, and a peanut-sized nose. The peach reveals itself as wetter than a bad snog; his the pants accept sponging duty. With swift realization, the man jumps, and swahpps (wipes/swaps?) his pants. Leaving the p Peach held in his jaw, he reaches into his coat pocket for a hanky; all recollection of its' earlier activities seem to have stayed in his the pocket. The expression on his face is that of man someone who has just done something incredibly daft, and realizes it. The peach is happily dripping across his chin; his the pants still on active duty. A women walks past, and cringes in a very lol-cat like fashion.

I'm not saying this is better. These are just examples of how to avoid pronouns and the man. You'd need to change some of the syntactic structure, add some conjunctions, and so on, to create a pleasant rhythm, but I didn't want to change the text beyond recognition.

Again, I feel your sample is fine and needs at most some minor changes when it comes to the pronouns.

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    I think your method is a good suggestion, but the first two changes bother me because of the resulting fragments. – Kit Z. Fox Oct 14 '14 at 11:49
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I've found a happy medium in referencing the name of the character, or in this case "the man", about every 3-4 uses of the pronoun, which ends up being about once a paragraph.

However, your writing tends to unexpectedly switch between third and first person and I don't quite feel like I'm understanding parts of your writing so I apologise if I get some parts wrong, but here is how I would rework it.

What an odd and wonderful day to be sitting on a bench, the man thinks, holding a peach in one hand and a spoon in the other. He wipes off some fuzz as it begins to drizzle and feels the fur of the peach, chemicals and all. At his feet lies a puddle reflecting a face with a moustache, bushy brows and a peanut sized nose.

Biting down on the peach, it reveals itself as wetter than a bad snog and his pants dutifully become a sponge for the juice. He jumps up in realisation of what has transpired and reaches into his coat pocket with the peach still held in his mouth. Out comes a handkerchief; its prior history going unnoticed as he lets out a sigh of frustration. All the while his pants are collecting more of the sweet juice from the peach, now dripping from his chin.

The man expresses a daft look as a woman walks past and cringes slightly at the sight of his clumsy situation.

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