Sprinting into the hazy darkness, through the reeds, across the wooden pier damp with the summer afternoon shower, the river waves softly roll in a gush of warm wind across my face...I reach up to brush the strands stuck to my cheek. A flicker of bright yellow bursts in front of me, followed by a familiar 3/4 rhythm. Fireflies. For once, I found pure joy in this lonely city of flashing, blinding lights.
As I walk back into the reality of the towering concrete jungle I still cannot call home, I cross paths with an unconscious man. Laid out in complete surrender, as if the weight of the world smothered any last ounce of will, the honest declaration on part of the weary masses who dare not reveal the depths of unfulfillment. We cry out for help, he silently. Help comes and we go our separate ways. Drifting, fading with no direction.
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