Old city

It's late in night. The wind blows hard through the dark alleys of the city, passing by the shadowed windows and leaving all the souls behind. If it could whisper, if it could talk, the wind would share so many thoughts of all those souls that hide from it ... they hide behind the carved, dusty walls of their buildings. Those very same walls that wind passed by so many times, and will pass again, and again, until the very end.

A young man is walking those dark alleys, looking for ..something, anything. Anything that could get him away from all of it. He walks slowly, listening to all the sounds around him. It might be late, but the city never sleeps ..you can always hear the noise, be it late in night or early morning. The sound of an engine fades away into the distance,  the noise of an old air conditioner ticks like a broken clock ..tick! tick! tock! tick! tock! tock!

In the building on the left he can see a light on, at the second floor. A young girl, barely in her high school years just walked into the kitchen. Every night you can hear her mother cry, every night she hopes it's the last time her daughter showed up late ..with a bottle of vodka.
If you look a bit to the left, you will see a couple in their mid 20's. He came home wearing the scent of another woman. She still hopes this is the last time, he promised after all. He promised last week, and the week before, and he will promise again 3 months from now. One year from now, he will be at a different window ..only this time it will be her that will promise. Unless, this is the real world. In real world the window will remain the same, and she will only be one year older ..hoping as always.

Ah sweet old city, a place of hopes and dreams, overwhelmed and overtaken by fear and despair. A place that doesn't know the notion of quiet.




-Been a while since my last post. A "friend" if I may call her that, reminded me how much I enjoyed writing a short story every now and then. I'm back, or so I think at the moment.


Love,Just.