Heartbeat

Snow was slowly falling on the sleeping city. All was quiet. Windows everywhere let out beams of light, colouring the white snow with the yellow embrace of technology. It contrasted with the blue colour that filled the sky under the full moon. All was quiet except for the sounds of passing buses. Downtown, they motion was constant, and the noise was the heartbeat of the city. They started from this central point, and distributed people along arteries to the extremities of the isolated community. In this valley, there were fields, and the city. All was quiet, with the exception of the buses, and of the trendy bars that grew along the main streets. With their rhythmic thumping, and tribal sounds, to a casual observer, some primitive ritual might have been going on between the walls. In a sense, the mating habits of mankind were both ritualistic and primitive.

Snow was slowly falling on the sleeping city. All was quiet. Above this quiet noise, there was a window revealing a silhouette in the light. Looking down upon all the people celebrating life, the girl was looking down. Tonight, they all were happy in that bar downstairs. But the noise only stirred a sad melancholy from the moment it started. All was quiet in the city, but a storm had risen in her heart. He was somewhere down there, she could feel it. Ever since that moment when she felt his soul enter her, she could always tell where he was. They had met about this time last year. A chance encounter, they were both waiting for the same bus. He had missed the previous one, she felt like being early. And as they waited, they started talking. A few days later, they realized that their lives orbited around one another, but that they had never crossed paths. Like the moon and the earth, they were part of the same system, but until that one morning, they had not collided.

Snow was falling on a city that only deceptively looked like it was sleeping. The buses were carting people around town, running like a clock, never stopping to ponder about each motion. And in the bars along the main streets there was a man. His mind was focussed, he was thinking about his own heart beating along side another person. He did not care who, so this club was the perfect place. Days ago, he would have thought this was a mistake, but now he no longer had any responsibility. What happened wasn’t his fault. He was sure of that. And so tonight, he was looking at the girls around. Some of them were not worth the attention, but some were well worth him buying them drinks. He was free. If she had not decided to visit him out of the blue, things would have been different. She could have missed that bus, but the driver apparently waited for her. An hour, what a difference it would have made. When she walked into his bedroom, an hour would have changed the world. She could believe he was taking a nap up until she saw he was not alone in bed. If she would have missed her bus, he would not be free, and she would not be betrayed. But that didn’t matter. With the purchase of a drink, one or two niceties exchanged over the loud music, and the promise of a good time, he would not sleep alone tonight. Why was he still thinking about her, everything was her fault anyway? She should have called, she should have missed her bus, the driver should not have waited. He was still talking about her when he was making empty promises to that girl with no name that would have to walk out of his life as soon as she had served her purpose.

Snow was no longer falling on the city that was falling asleep. All was quiet. Light filtered out of some windows. Like a starry sky filled with bricks. He was coming out of the club, with this fake blond girl hanging on to his arm, because the world was spinning too fast, because she spun too slowly. He was walking with her along known streets. In the last year he had walked these streets with someone else on his arm. Now everything seemed different. But he forced himself to think everything stayed the same. So he walked these street he had learned on different times. Why did he have to park his car where he used to. If that car had not been broken, a year ago, everything would be much simpler. He would not have this oppressing feeling in his stomach, he would not feel like throwing up just remembering that moment when she walked in his room where her heart was shattered. It was her fault. The nuisance hanging on his arm made a noise, and then a motion. She was pointing to a window that lacked any significance for her, but had one time meant the world for him. Why did he have to park within sight of her window? The fake blond insisted. He raised his eyes to the window he had shut out of his heart, only to see the silhouette of his former angel flying, her feet no longer touching the ground. Suspended in midair not by the wings she deserved, but by a noose around her neck.

[Valentine's Day special... or not. I was lacking ideas tonight, so I went for a "comfort zone." While I am happy with the result, it almost feels like a step back. But then again, who am I to judge the stories I write? Oh, and please don't try to find deeper meaning, this is just a story.]