Critical, creative and digital writingEcriture critique, créative et numérique

 ? 𝞪/A

Glass and concrete

A May day at dusk, my step resonates. I sense no one around, nothing but glass and concrete. I thought it was a refuge I was in, but without prospect, I'm just dying in loneliness. How come the city is empty of its biomass? I wonder as I advance further into its centre. Not a sound, but my heart beating at the rhythm of my walking. I can almost perceive the sound waves of my steps soaring and reverberating against the walls of glass. A gleam as sudden as the muffled cry I emit. I watch silently, trying to decide without daring to hope. It seems it was the wind and a window. I'm upset. I stop. I glance around. I scream my lungs out. The echo responds a dozen times, showing my loneliness to my eyes. And then… So that's what she looks like… I'd never imagined her like that. Yet, I know I've fallen in love, and it feels good. I go into the building hoping to reach her soon. I walk up the stairs, thousands of them, laughing at my attempt to reach the top of the skyscraper. It's so slow, I don't want to wait any longer. I'm impatient, I run the fastest I can. My heart beats so strong I feel my veins are going to blow out and empty my soul on the ground. I arrive there, where she is. She's been waiting for my coming. She sniggers, checks me out and lets herself fall off the edge of the building. Her eyes, fixed on me, reflect my own face. I can see I'm petrified. I can't move. All the senses of my body are so acutely aware of what I'm witnessing that I force my legs to move. I follow her, I run now and I jump into nothingness, willing so much to grab her. The moment my fingers brushes hers, she smiles, and then she crashes onto the street. I'm sweating. I'm breathing very fast. Too fast. My heart's beating is mad. My whole body is failing. I turn the light on. There she is, beside me, serene in her sleeping. I breathe out. I embrace her and hold her on until slumbering into torpor. Oh no!