Main St. and 8th Ave.

The sky, such a vast and what seems a never-ending space. Its funny how the colors can change up there, how they vary from night to day! How some days the sky holds many clouds with all shapes and sizes that fill the air and make it seem white with blue spots, and others there is but few withering glimpses of that white puffy substance.

Down to the ground I see the Adults with their significant other walking down a narrow sidewalk, their hands clutched together, swaying back and forth. Its as if they’re stuck in their own little bubble. Every ten minutes or so you see the same thing, two different people lost together in each other.

Looking towards the sun I catch a glimpse of light that’s caught on a crack in the street, no less than a shed of light on a canvas. One after the other they walked through a single flash of light, once underneath, caught in their own moment. Across the street from that are two children, skipping with the wind in their face. As they hop from one colored concrete path to another you see their smile and how perfectly in peace they’ve become.

Just over my shoulder, there is a girl not much older than I; she is waiting for the bus, sitting there with her head dangling over her hands. I can barely see her eyes, a light blue pool of endless thoughts. For that second I realized that as I walk through my life, just like that girl, I find myself drifting off into my mind. Suddenly, I find myself drowning in my own thoughts, a wheel of all the mistakes and dreams all summed into one. She did that to me, I bet that the place she was mentally brought her some sickness—an utterly feeble corner.

Down a few blocks was an older gentleman; he had a grey pinstriped hat on with a black jacket. It made me think how uncomfortable for him—with the heat. He had a look drawn upon his face; he truly was lost in himself, a dreary soul that had somehow found his peace with life. He walked with his shoulders weighed down; there was a slight drudging of his left leg on the sidewalk and his head like the girl suspended from his neck. He was seriously feeling the gravity that day!

Looking down at the ground there was an odd mark embedded on the paved street. A star almost, it had seven points though. The bench where I was sitting had knife marks in it, and even though the tree had not been alive for years, it stuck in my head for what now seems an eternity. I pictured everything about it, right down to where it was, it must have been a beautiful place. In my mind there were healthy trees for miles and the eldest one grew with ease. Like skyscrapers of the world, the sky was growing all around them, not the other around!

I’m wearing my jeans that once were hole-less, and a black t-shirt that attracted the suns rays all day. For once my head isn’t hanging down, for once I’m not looking off into space in wonder of more!