Purple Rain

A Story by imrul.islam

Epiphany

Purple Rain

Violet skies recede into a blanket of black.

I look around. The rains have ended; the city spreads out before me in endless rows of concrete blocks and splashes of green. Beauty peeks out in between omnipresent dullness. I smile.

Twilight drapes its wings around me. A homeward bat flies overhead; I watch its silhouette fading away into oblivion. The day is ending. It’s time the owls woke up.

The breeze flirting with stray strands of my hair feels heavenly. Cigarette smoke swirls up into the sky, dwindles in concentration- becomes imperfect. The symmetry is wrecked by the once loving breeze. I bow my head and cover my hair- I won’t play anymore.

Oddly, my mind is blank today. No deep musings, no calculating schemes and no thoughts of what tomorrow might bring. I am at ease, an observer without a care in the world. God would’ve been proud.

The stars will appear shortly, and I await my daily conference. You can spill your heart and soul to those wonderful lights and they won’t ever tell a soul. They merely listen, and twinkle once in a while. I like them. You see, the stars are what we strive to be- majestic, wise and with a certain degree of gravity. And they influence our lives, even from light years away.

Closer to home, the streets catch my eye. The neons are alight- a yellow hue hovers above the busy alleys, for they all look like alleys from here. Highways and dead ends merge into one endless maze of asphalt. The asphalt stands out, like a lone star at midnight- only less beautiful and infinitely uglier.

I sit there and stare down. The breeze ruffles my hair apologetically, but I don’t listen. A flapping close to my ear makes me turn around. I see wings.

The owls have awoken.

Inspired by Purple Rain by Prince and The Revolution