It is a scary thing to see your life come to an end before it has even really begun. Everything you have ever strived to accomplish and even those that have not yet crossed your mind surface in the most painful way imaginable; taunting you because that small part of your mind telling you that you can accomplish anything suddenly turns into a very prominent noise telling you how much you have failed. Then your brain returns back to why your life is ending anyways; was it something you did or did fate just deal you a cruel hand? Was it honestly your choice to jump from the roof of your apartment building or was it always destined to be your fate?
As the ground rushed up to meet me, I could not help but wonder which answer was right and how could I have let things get as far as they did. I have always been in control of my own life every step of the way but somewhere along the line that control skipped tracks and here I am, about to introduce my skull to the pavement rushing closer. It is funny how so many thoughts can go through my head in such a short time considering how quickly I was free-falling. It feels like time slowed down for me so that I could have enough time to seriously contemplate my situation. How did I get here?
The coffee shop on the corner of Castle and Broadway was my favorite place to linger. I had my favorite chair in an alcove; a mini chaise lounge of the most obnoxious gold and orange, next to the window looking out to the busy fountain courtyard of the square. It was here I found the most inspiration for my writing as I imagined the lives of the people outside; who they were rushing to meet or who from they were trying to escape, what greeting they used to meet their lover when they walked in the front door, how many children they had and how many they actually wanted. It was a location rich with local color and culture. The baristas all knew me by sight as well as a few of the other regulars who knew better than to be sitting in my chair at 6 p.m. on the weekends. Jimmy had just brought my medium, decaf, dark roast coffee when he walked in. A man I had never seen before walking with purpose and confidence towards the counter. There was nothing readily special about him compared to the others I have seen walk in but something still held my attention. I could not tear my eyes away from the structure of his face - ears too small for the size of his head, nose too big, and a jawline any sculpture would fantasize about.
(Originally posted to Lingering Aftermath of Illspoken Words, 10.31.2012.)
No comments:
Post a Comment