thujone
Bluelight Crew
- Joined
- Aug 31, 2006
- Messages
- 11,988
Today I wore an old jacket I had nearly forgotten about until I lifted it out of the closet, picked some errant fibres off and put it on. The smell of fall surged through the city air as I walked aimlessly down the streets I never reach the end of on foot. What I love the most about the city is being amongst the skyscrapers, glistening in the sun and casting their shadows on the people down below. Who needs an absent God when men built these spires so we can sit where the birds fly and stare out at the world?
I walked South to where the city is parted by the highway. People were shooting hoops in the courts between the concrete columns holding up the road. Noise from the cars coursing over the asphalt spilled down on the street and it reminded me of how cold the air was so I put my hands in my old jacket pockets and in one of them my fingers felt something cool. I recognized the shape as belonging to a shell I picked up years ago off the shore of an inlet where the waves of the ocean lapped softly against the stones. Memories of the East Coast came to mind, a trickle of images at first but soon a flood of clips playing back in the seedy cinema of my head.
I recalled the cold, snowy winters and smell of salt in the air to remind me I was near the ocean wherever I went. I remembered also traffic lights turning to a four way blink at 11pm when the dim light of sporadic halogen lamps lit the streets; just enough light to see where you were going but not enough to see how drunk and stoned the sloppy fella passing you on the street was. I remembered all kinds of details because I was looking for an excuse not to think of her; the girl I met at the shore.
Five years later that memory could still make me fall apart. My nose began to sting and the inner corners of my eyes narrowed instinctively to fight the flow of tears. I saw a sign denoting a bar with stairs leading down out of sight and I ducked in to see if my last, wrinkled fiver would be enough for a strong drink. I sat there at the bar, shutting out the world and getting lost in the flavour of the gin that would galvanize my emotions so I could face the memories of her that leapt from the back of my mind like some infernal jack-in-the-box. Yes. It was working. I could sense her fragrance as I pulled from my pocket the sea shell; the talisman her memory wouldn’t let me throw away.
I walked South to where the city is parted by the highway. People were shooting hoops in the courts between the concrete columns holding up the road. Noise from the cars coursing over the asphalt spilled down on the street and it reminded me of how cold the air was so I put my hands in my old jacket pockets and in one of them my fingers felt something cool. I recognized the shape as belonging to a shell I picked up years ago off the shore of an inlet where the waves of the ocean lapped softly against the stones. Memories of the East Coast came to mind, a trickle of images at first but soon a flood of clips playing back in the seedy cinema of my head.
I recalled the cold, snowy winters and smell of salt in the air to remind me I was near the ocean wherever I went. I remembered also traffic lights turning to a four way blink at 11pm when the dim light of sporadic halogen lamps lit the streets; just enough light to see where you were going but not enough to see how drunk and stoned the sloppy fella passing you on the street was. I remembered all kinds of details because I was looking for an excuse not to think of her; the girl I met at the shore.
Five years later that memory could still make me fall apart. My nose began to sting and the inner corners of my eyes narrowed instinctively to fight the flow of tears. I saw a sign denoting a bar with stairs leading down out of sight and I ducked in to see if my last, wrinkled fiver would be enough for a strong drink. I sat there at the bar, shutting out the world and getting lost in the flavour of the gin that would galvanize my emotions so I could face the memories of her that leapt from the back of my mind like some infernal jack-in-the-box. Yes. It was working. I could sense her fragrance as I pulled from my pocket the sea shell; the talisman her memory wouldn’t let me throw away.
Last edited: