Someone Almost, But Not Entirely, Another.

I set out through the streets in search of an answer. I wandered through the bitter cold; my gloved hands still shivering, shoved in the pockets of my coat. The buildings rose tall and gray around me, looming above like a displeased surgeon looking on a patient. Their square windows were like a thousand gaping eyes, reaching out a far and wide gaze, the patios outstretched palms- waiting to pull me toward something. My pace quickened. I longed to escape the confines of this city and I knew that if I kept walking I would eventually reach the bridge. I longed to glance at the water, imagining my limbs reaching out beside me, pushing through it, beyond it, away from everything I knew and into the arms of mystery.

I felt my legs brush up against each other as I settled into a jog. "At this rate I'll reach the bridge in no time," I said to myself. My thoughts were quick like arrows and my eyes squinted to block out the people in my periphery. There was always someone watching, a lone eye positioned at the top of a tower. Only a myth- I know. But, I couldn't help feeling caught between myself and my fantasies. I had to be back at the office the next morning. The stacks of paper would surely be built up on my desk, a cluttered cave of the beaurocractic dundgeon. And I knew that come morning, I would look that lovely lady in the eye. And she would bow and her smooth skin would brush against the sides of her skirt. I could hear the sound echoing in my ears, the fabric sliding carefully against her, her heels clanking on the hard-tile floor, my eyes searing into the back of her, my lips quivering with unspoken promises. She barely even knew me but still I shivered.

The buildings became fewer- they were now only small houses peeking out from the sides of the street. An old man left his home. He had shut the door tightly, it closed quickly clattering behind him. He clammered down the front steps and I stopped to stare. Rude, I know. He looked familiar- his age-worn and washed out eyes which glimmered only faintly, heavily set into a gaunt face- just two tiny green twinkles. Barely noticible if it hadn't been for the streetlamps which lined his walkway. He looked at me, blinked, checked his watch. "Somewhere to be?" I wondered. He continued on his way, head down as he headed ahead of me. I'd shout a warning but I doubt he'd heed it.

I continued on my walk, my feet shuffling slightly, my eyes trained forward and my arms dangling uselessly beside me. I wished there was something to be done with them. I fumbled through my jacket pocket and pulled out a few crumbled notes, recipets. I fiddled with a small flask and took a sip. The whiskey warmed me but I was wary not to drink too much. The houses soon seemed more scattered. Only one every few blocks. Things were quiet and I saw no people on the street which had changed to a gravel road. I knew that just over the hill the bridge poked out; I could see the very tip of it along the horizon. I knew I would get there soon. It was so close I could taste it.