I’m in the city of Time.
Dressed in the darkest gentleman’s suit you would’ve never seen on any mannequin in any shop! Not Raymond or Park Avenue, it is some petty brand with a weird name. Soul? I guess?
Yes that’s the name!
Bad quality, mine’s torn in places, revealing vulnerable wounds.
My brain barely gives any orders regarding where I should head to. My legs are making that decision, energised by the continuous, directional, flow of a liquid from the heart.
My ears could make out a faint thump at regular intervals.
click.. click.. click…
Is it the ticking of some giant Grandfather’s Clock placed miles from me, or my own little heart beating gongs, probably announcing the purification of another small sip of blood, I know not! There’s barely any difference between the two anyway. Both act as wake up calls, ordering you to get back or to where you should, where you belong, from where you’re imagining yourself.
tick.. tick.. tick…
The only inhabited area in this city is breathing in the periphery of the street a sign announced as ‘Life‘. That hint is enough to reveal it isn’t just any ordinary street.
Every fractional millimeter of this path we leave behind is set on fire, barring us from even giving return a second thought! All that is left behind is the ash people call Memories. Even a pinch bit tough to recognize what it used to be.
Is it of a person or a happening, or both? Few of us spend our whole walk on this path working over on just a handful of ash they’ve stuffed into their pockets.
thump.. thump.. thump…
My steps, I work out, are slower than those regular beats, which isn’t a thing I should freak out on. Its time which overtakes on this street race, and we fall even before time touches the victory thread. Its stamina unbeatable, for us mortal microorganisms.
I hallucinate someone, maybe my one and only I can’t make out, walking in front of me. She’s facing me, as if luring me to trudge on the path. But something in me has buried its root on the spot. I see her walking on and on until I lose her to the dense fog. After everything, love lost.
She’s gone. To someone? To somewhere? Or just out of my reach?
bam.. bam.. bam…
I gather the guts I spilled earlier and run. Run to make up for the lost time, run to somewhere I can’t tell, past everything.
This run makes me feel lively. I can now see a distant star, which has become my goal.
That’s the point where I’ll declare myself contented.
That’s MY place, my aim. I’ll be that star.
While running, I ignore people I pass. People who were ready to walk alongside for a few steps. But I’ve left them behind, almost blindly running for what I predict to be just mine.
They call out my name. Repeat. Yell.
I’m running, negligent to their calls.
They plead, beg, scream, shout, curse, and eventually give up. For they know,
I’ll someday realise their importance.
I’ll regret not walking those steps with them by my side.
But that’s where the creator drops a plot twist.
I pop champagne on their exit. I utilised that time inching closer to what’s mine. At least that’s what I tell myself everyday.
I sip the champagne but oh! I’m the only one present at my success party.
click.. click.. click…
Beautiful street, ain’t it?
Beautiful life, ain’t it?
WordPress Prompt Challenge – Unpredictable