Untitled, but

Chapter 1.

The grey sky reflected the dull throb that sustained the city. Tall buildings rose and fell,

innocently piercing the opaque skyline blurring the line between the vast expanse and the

what-is. From my perch I could feel the resultant breeze of work being done, produce sold,

urinals cleaned, affairs had, and promotions being earned.

Life being lived.

You’re told of promise, adventure and all things that provide levity to the dullness. But it

all seems relative. Everything is relative. Your place amongst the functions and features

that ultimately is nothing more and nothing less. For some, ignorance serves as a shield from the subtext, for others its is an esoteric fact of life; I often feel as though I can traffic between those two perspectives.

A blessing and a curse.

If

{Important concept}

Then

{Comprehend, empathize, react}

Have you ever stood between two mirrors? If you do you know the dizzying sensation I’m feeling right now. The weather has acquiesced, finally. Every breath that doesn’t impale the back of your

throat with a cold touch is a blessing. The warmer air offers a temporary teasing embrace.

Sip.

The tingling sensation rolls through your chest. The warm liquid from the end of the bottle marks the initial moments when you become aware of your sangre.

In a couple of hours I am meeting my girlfriend in the park, marrying two of my favorite

things; the corner of her lips when a smile is begging to worm its way to actualization, and

the simplicity. Im excited for that.

I turn to hop off the top of bench, planting my shoes firmly on brittle dirt patch, pivot and raise

my chin. Oliver ambles into my field of vision. I was struck by how confident he initially

appeared to me. After all, who has a confident amble? The shortened black collar of his

long sleeve shirt exposed a sturdy neck, necessary to support an oval head that was

brimming heavily with experiences. What few long grey hairs were left were apparently

tired, as they lay sideways across the top of his ebony skull. His pants were baggy and his

leather shoes were worn. To walk a mile in a man’s shoes.

My own gait has an air of confidence. My own neck resembles something of a small tree

trunk. My partiality towards engaging with strangers forced questions from my mind towards my mouth. “Hey sir, my name’s Michael. How are you?”

To be continued...