Sidewalk
a short story by Sly


I walk the sidewalk.

The concrete frim under my feet. The city bustling with people. Birds fly through the air singing beautiful music. It was definately the greatest music that existed, and it was certainly the most natural. The sidewalk was long and ran for miles. As far as I know, it probably ends at some building or some suburban neighborhood in the outskirts of the city. Buildings tower far above me. Skyscrapers sway invisibly with the wind. Pedestrians move on their way to what ever is first on their list of priorities.

It was all there. What I saw was, well, the latest stage of human evolution. That's the best I can put it. Nothing was really there for your enjoyment, on the sidewalk. Advertisements for stores, some more creative than others. Those were the things that made some people want to walk the sidewalk, to get their eye caught on something. But not me.

I came to a bench. It was in the middle of the sidewalk, no bus stop, and there was nothing it was necessarily related to. It was just there. I took a seat. The sky was more blue than I remembered. The grass more green. The concrete.. less gray.

I couldn't think of yesterday. It wasn't there. I wasn't alive 24 hours ago. The scars healed. It was fine. There were no more problems. I was free. The truth revealed. I didn't really care what would happen next, it didn't matter. I had gotten over the pain and the agony.

She walked the sidewalk.

She wasn't familiar. Her hair was long and wavy and she was casually dressed. Headphones blasted volume into her ears. Her eyes were a beautiful color. Her clothes weren't necessarily short, nor long, but were just the length enough to tell me she was modest.

The birds were silent to my ears, the wind still to my senses, the advertisements dimmed to my eyes.
I stood from the bench and turned her direction as she turned back towards mine.
Perhaps it was the way she looked back at me.