A fragment of hope...

The beginning of a short story set in a random place, at the random time, followed by the random thoughts of a character who has a tale to tell.

I watched the final blazes of today’s shine being swallowed by tonight’s dark on my tiny terrace; allowing the wind to play discord with my hair. To continue hurting me.

The night was young and I felt old.

My toothache was unbearable by then, roaring the scrapes of clustering pain throughout my flesh and bone. I closed my eyes. I tried focusing; beating the pervert that dug so deep. But of all the things in this world, I knew that I was all but strong willed. I wanted to be. Tonight, just this once; later I’d learn. God knows that it would solve my lifetime of issues.

It didn’t work.

I went inside to grab a bottle of painkillers. I took it and grinned. Painkillers? Killers of the womb, killers of personality, I’d say, labeled and sold worldwide. Not that I have a personality left to kill. Cheers.

I sat back on the uncomfort of the terrace chair followed by the bitter taste in my mouth. I was wandering then, was it the pills or did I spontaneously pressed “play” on all the wrongs I’ve done by the placebo I’ve welcomed with a grinning face? I shook it all off.

Placebo or not, the pain should eventually end. But why is the wind still hurting me?

I saw a crying girl left out of the gathering crowd, right below me. She reminded me of someone I once knew.

I took the pill bottle and tossed it on her. I wandered if they can beat whatever she’s feeling.

She lifted her delicate hand and scratched the copper mane that was waltzing around her face, calming the impact I caused. For a long moment after, she was inspecting the thing and finally looked up. She saw me, the only guy sitting there, lost in thought of her teary eye.

What the hell?!

I didn’t hear that. Instead she gave me a wave with the same gentle hand that touched her hair a moment ago. She smiled running back to the beating heart of the undying city; the city that will breathe for her tonight with fading faces that will be her audience.

And I only wished to be barked at.

I watched in awe her rushing feet until she was gone, only to stay a good memory that was selflessly given to someone like me. I was smiling. The pain was gone for today.

The night was getting old and I felt young again.

Have a good one old man.

 

Author's Note

Every critique and every word is warmly welcome.
English is not my native tongue; so if you see any mistakes that I have foreseen, tell me.
Thank you.