Late
October 12, 2017 - 256 words
The guy wandered the downtown streets in a focused daze. Rows of light and sound, taking no specific turn consciously but ending up at all the right places: the Dimension Building, Juniper’s, Leguiza’s Tacos. Or maybe they were all the wrong places now; time had a way of warping things.
The disharmony of the nightlife inserted itself into the colorful jazz that was pulsing steadily into his ears, fitting together and dissolving the boundaries of perception, turning the evening into something fragile but unique. Urban jazz. The skyscrapers floated above like dark towers in the quiet sky. He thought about snapping a few pictures of the familiar places he passed and sending them across town, three miles west, to the woman he’d made these memories with. She was at home, washing dishes. She wouldn’t answer but he could remind her he still existed. He could at least do that.
Women glided down the sidewalks, their heels clicking onto the concrete. They were altered: on alcohol, psychedelics, love, or the hum of a night that had no end in sight. Some chemical. Men passed him in a similar manner, less obvious about their delirium and reserving it for their companions. Their eyes all asked the same question: what if I don’t belong?
He would be meeting her soon. Where was she taking him? Somewhere new. The night would end at dawn, their brains packed and clogged with silhouettes, red lights and anonymous faces. Imagery that only a journal back home, increasingly heavy with excited ink, would see.