The Unseen Unloved

The Unseen Unloved

A Story by Entheos

It was raining. No raining isn’t the right word. It was gushing, gushing from the sky, gushing from the dark, tormented sky with no end to the pointless misery. It seemed the city was being quickly filled with dark merciless water threatening to destroy it, and all who dared live in it. The lights in the windows of the buildings were all dark as everyone had long ago gone off to bed, or maybe they had died of some cancer, or plague. It didn’t really matter, sleeping or dead, he was alone and either way it all felt the same.

 

In this city of millions, alone and unseen he cried. He wept as he watched out the window, and the city continued unaware. The rain mingled with the oil on the streets, causing loveless rainbows to ooze their way to ravenous sewer drains. None of the fat, ugly people were waddling their way down the cracked street tonight. They were all off with their families and friends, staying dry, enjoying knowing who and what they were.

 

Again he looked out the dirty, smeared window facing the old bakery. During the day, with its red awning, it looked like a sail catching the ever-present wind, but in the dark it looked the laughing lips of some cruel beast, reminding him of his madness. He loved to watch the women, in their skirts, and hats, float down the boulevard, window shopping without a care. He longed to touch the silk of the hem, and to smell the fragrance of that beautiful hair envelop his senses. But how could he, ever go down there amongst those happy people.  
 

Terrified that they would see him as he was, here he stayed in his hated little room, his cell. In the summer it was too hot, and in the winter he froze. Tonight, the cold brick walls, which usually kept the ever-present wind at bay, admitted a damp draft adding to the misery. He longed for the freedom he saw down there on the street, the chance to be like everyone else.
 

Putting aside the book he’d been clutching, he decided that tonight would be the night he’d end the suffering. Tonight would be the night that those hateful little people down there, would maybe, just for a moment see him as he saw himself, or at very least notice him. Dressing quickly, determined not to lose his will, he made his way down the dark stairway careful to avoid the broken step second to the bottom. He stepped out into the downpour, and his tears added to the flood. Shaking, he walk to the middle of the street, put the gun into his mouth, and pulled the trigger.  
 

The sound was lost in the wail of the storm. A solitary concerned light went on in the building next to the bakery, then after a moment was extinguished.
 

The storm ended, the sun rose, and the dead came back from their slumber to begin the new day. A crowd gathered in the street around his body. The water on the road had mixed with the oil and the blood, leaving another ghastly unloving rainbow of color, which the people cautiously stepped over in order to get a better look.
 

Some cried and one even laughed, but most of the people just stood stoically unsure of what they should be feeling.  
 

The oil and the blood marred the beauty of the silk that he wore. And in that moment, all the people saw him as he saw himself, and they saw that she was dead.

 

© 2009 Entheos


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Added on October 5, 2009
Last Updated on October 5, 2009

Author

Entheos
Entheos

Great Falls, MT



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