Thunders Kiss: Doubt (6)

Cold thoughts and a troubled mind

The rain drifts from the sky. A soft gentle rain that catches the streetlamp’s light and tossed it around like a million tiny mirrors. Each drop hit the ground of the overpass with soft almost inaudible thud before flowing together into a stream of life that slips into the river below.

A single figure stands watching, hiding in the shadow of the bridge above him, stealing the warmth and shelter that if offers. Cloaked in shadows and wrapped in darkness he is invisible, a phantom that disappears with the coming dawn. Only the orange sun of his cigarette betrays him, declaring to the world that beneath the overpass lurks a man. Behind him the shadows stir softly, and a whiff of gentle perfume is caught by the breeze.

 “Trish” he nods once slowly as she steps up close behind him.

“Sparky”

Slowly the cigarette is hefted to his lips; gently he inhales, suckling upon the cancerous roll like a babe upon a breast.

“Bear will be here soon, there was one last stop he had to make.”

Again he nods slowly.

“I’m ready.”

Before him looms the decaying monolith. Steele beams jut from cold brick, bones peaking out from a rotting corpse.

“I don’t see what the city hopes to gain from reworking such and old building.” Trish tosses her words out casually, trying to fill the space between them.

The drag is slower this time, the breath deeper.

“History” he says as he exhales, the smoke and the word drifting as one in the night air, fading together, lost to time.

“They do say the future is in the past.” Trish says with a smile.

His lips slide into a frown. The same frown he has worn too many times before.

“I hope not.” His words a mere whisper. A whisper meant for no one but himself.

“I hope not.” He says again to the night.

Author's Note

I respectfully ask is that you dont critique my work or my grammar, but I welcome comments with open arms.