Cities Orchestra

The damp smell humiliates him. A horrific competition of cars correlated into a compilation of screeching that flood the alleys and illuminate the sky in an agonizing, unorganized effort. Each one fighting for attention to try and stick out from the rest only to die out in failure after only a few seconds of life. This combined commotion was just a simple vacancy to the man walking in the cities filth nearby. Exploring alone between alleys he mused over the sight of his feet mindlessly surfing over the cities floor. Riddled with cracks, the scripture that told of the cities true being. A vile taste inhabited his very being as a plague of prominent sorrow waved over his emotions. He fell to a knee. The wet carnage of a puddle seeped through the fabric of his pants ripping him from his last ounce of dignity and strength. The weight of his water soaked jeans added to the burden of sorrow perched on his shoulders. His cloths itch, sucking his soul into the ground of rubble and rotten city fallout. The pressure of his cell phone in his pocket fouled his heart as he was reminded of the call he received just moments before. A tear fell, complementing the city turf written with remarks and ruins of failure and incompetence. Why? Why him? He put so much love, effort and passion in, he questioned his every move to make sure that what he did was best. Everything he lived for was now gone. He could have done better, it was his fault. His child, his only son’s laughter is now only heard as a memory that tortured for now what was it all worth? His eyes now dry from tears as he strains to come to a stand. He looks forward and stares at this monster of a city before him in the eye and thinks: Who would want to live in a place as evil as this. With this last thought he placed a gun to his head to follow the end of his son’s journey. The noise was a meaningless clap in time that synced to the music of the city, an on-going orchestra of despair.