“Come on, let’s go somewhere outside,” Jay insisted, so I gave in. Both of us had been feeling pretty low that week because of all that had happened.
So we left the apartment and were soon on a bench in the park. Couples, kids, and all sorts of people trodded by, mostly talking to each other, shouting excitedly, chasing after a balloon…the afternoon dragged along as if the moon wasn’t already up in the orange sky. And then I looked at the skyline and wandered off in thought. Moments later, Jay was elbowing me,
“Are you not listening!”
“What did you say?” I was startled and tried to look away. His blank face melted into a frown, and the sun’s rays reflected at an angle through his thick round-frame glasses. I tried to say something else but I was voiceless. So the two of us stared into wherever, silently, and thought over our lives once more.
It had been a long tiresome month, and we had lost almost everything. But we still had our apartment, and some money from my working at the restaurant down the bookstore. On the larger scale, however, things didn’t look so bright. And the following eventless days seemed to prove just that…
We’d built after those long months little prosperous worlds that we could marvel at every minute. We’d revel in past and present joys, hoping for many more. What we didn’t know was that our luck had run out. So as we stood tall, the worlds we owned came crumbling down, and we didn’t know it until the very last brick we were standing on flattened to dust. We then realized that not all ends well—however much we want it to. We can never correctly predict when the clock will stop ticking, but at least we know it will, and very soon.
Thank you for reading my work.
I don't know exactly what happened, Trevor, but the overall sentiment I feel from reading this piece is something I can relate to deeply. I had this feeling the last 18 months or so, like things were crumbling around me. Great piece. Thanks for liking my Note the other day, by the way.