view through the veil
Usually crowds and tourists and hammering voices turn my heart sour and my tongue snapping. Today the moody sky and the little shivers running up my legs cool my skin, it’s as if the clouds are competing with me to be the grumpiest kid on the block. Darkness taps me on the shoulder and offers me a view through the veil.
I slip in my headphones and now I’m watching a movie, sliding down the street as if I don’t exist.
I’m a shadow.
An alien in human skin.
I make no sound as I slide between bundled corpses as they walk down crowded sidewalks, duck into expensive ships and gawk at souvenirs and overpriced cafes. They don’t even notice I’m there, a shadow with it’s hood up, a forgotten memory left in alleyway.
I love this feeling, I don’t get it too often. I’m chilled by the absence of it all, a ghost on the edges of reality, blurred at the corners until I can slide between the cracks of this world and the next.
A tourist of a different kind, watching humanity on holiday, a wraith dancing down the street in a too big wool sweater and a smirk crinkling the red of his beard.
A forgotten soul in a bag of bones, hitchhiking through the galaxy.
I let the sky sulk, today the buildings and crowds make me feel as small and centered as the mountains do.
The world is dark and I am its happy shadow, trailing cold fingertips along ancient stone. There is nowhere else to be, no way else to feel.
I take a breath of the city, tasting the rain on it’s streets, and let the absence of chaos fold around my bones.