Crossroads
“Tasteless!” I exclaimed to myself as I sipped the cup of coffee, “just like my experience in this cold distant town”. I arrived here on an errand, and should have left after but something kept me lingering, latching to this lifeless place. I found myself an empty seat in a small coffee shop by the road to have a sip to see if that helped me clear my mind off of all that I had been through lately, but that too turned distasteful.
The sun had set by the time I came out into the streets and the coffee hadn’t helped, so I turned towards the alleys and with a mind full of brooding thoughts went along the dark passages this town had to offer. The night had a sweet aroma and it engulfed me as I found rambling through unknown lanes.
The night stretched on and darkness had enveloped the city. It was then when I met her, standing on the edge of the roof, looking down at the alley beneath. She stood there, clutching the edge of her skirt with her little hands and wiped off what seemed a tear. I drew closer and stood beneath the roof and saw a young girl. She was slender and maybe in her early twenties and her brown eyes sparkled as she looked at me. I asked what she was doing up there, but she didn’t answer; she just stood there. I saw a face full of despair when all hope has ebbed away. She had a face I felt unbefitting of the sadness upon it. In her brightly coloured dress she looked like a sprightly gypsy girl who deserved a smile upon that now forlorn face. A tear trickled down her chin and fell upon me, a drop of sadness I wanted to fathom. In the distance thunder rumbled while miles away, here in her heart a storm seemed to rage. As the rains started trickling, eroding the silence that loomed in that alley, I heard her for the first time. In a hushed tone she uttered “If only I could surrender myself to this rain again, dancing and jumping like a five year old, but a different story seems to be at hand. I tried to piece together these broken shards of all that’s left but I seem to have become one of those shards myself, unable to be complete again. This is my final act of mending of what’s left, and you shall witness as my story completes and I close this book to my final chapter.” With that she plunged upon the lifeless street below. I held her close as she lay there as the rain pattered on, drenching us, yet all I felt and heard was a piercing echo of anguish smothering us in that tenebrous alley. The last thing I remember is me coming out of the alley to ask for help and a sharp light speeding towards me.
The NEWS next day reported the death of two separate individuals, a girl in an alley who seemed to have jumped, and a boy who was hit by a car. Yet only the alley will know the tale of how the lives of these two people entwined upon that crossroad and were etched in darkness and despair.
The sun had set by the time I came out into the streets and the coffee hadn’t helped, so I turned towards the alleys and with a mind full of brooding thoughts went along the dark passages this town had to offer. The night had a sweet aroma and it engulfed me as I found rambling through unknown lanes.
The night stretched on and darkness had enveloped the city. It was then when I met her, standing on the edge of the roof, looking down at the alley beneath. She stood there, clutching the edge of her skirt with her little hands and wiped off what seemed a tear. I drew closer and stood beneath the roof and saw a young girl. She was slender and maybe in her early twenties and her brown eyes sparkled as she looked at me. I asked what she was doing up there, but she didn’t answer; she just stood there. I saw a face full of despair when all hope has ebbed away. She had a face I felt unbefitting of the sadness upon it. In her brightly coloured dress she looked like a sprightly gypsy girl who deserved a smile upon that now forlorn face. A tear trickled down her chin and fell upon me, a drop of sadness I wanted to fathom. In the distance thunder rumbled while miles away, here in her heart a storm seemed to rage. As the rains started trickling, eroding the silence that loomed in that alley, I heard her for the first time. In a hushed tone she uttered “If only I could surrender myself to this rain again, dancing and jumping like a five year old, but a different story seems to be at hand. I tried to piece together these broken shards of all that’s left but I seem to have become one of those shards myself, unable to be complete again. This is my final act of mending of what’s left, and you shall witness as my story completes and I close this book to my final chapter.” With that she plunged upon the lifeless street below. I held her close as she lay there as the rain pattered on, drenching us, yet all I felt and heard was a piercing echo of anguish smothering us in that tenebrous alley. The last thing I remember is me coming out of the alley to ask for help and a sharp light speeding towards me.
The NEWS next day reported the death of two separate individuals, a girl in an alley who seemed to have jumped, and a boy who was hit by a car. Yet only the alley will know the tale of how the lives of these two people entwined upon that crossroad and were etched in darkness and despair.