The Sun is High

The sun is high, slowly jogging along in its journey downwards, ripening and becoming ready to be eaten by the river. The bridge cuts across the water in a violation with its tall cements columns, jagged and violent as the cars rush across.

The pedestrians scurry to and fro along the walkways on the sides. She wobbles slowly as she travels forward. Everyone travels forward for a bridge is not a place of resting.

She wishes that God would cry for her in her actions, she wishes for the rain to fall and make the river swell, pregnant with unwanted children that the rain has bestowed her.

She wishes for fantasy.

Fantasy will not come though. This is a forgotten reality besieged by the pride of immortality worn by the young, for it could never happen to them.

God’s a bastard though. The rain would not fall and give the river the suffering that is rightly hers.

She leans against the railing, hands wrapped around the metal bar to keep her away. The wind whips and stings, sending her hair and clothes sailing in an attempt to escape her body. She lolls and sinks down on to the sidewalk, a puddle of flesh, bone and cloth as the people curse and step around her.

“Are you alright?”

“Do you feel sick?”

“Where do you live?”

“Do you need any help?”

She shakes her head. There’s no room for tears. There’s room for tears. She’s still lying. She’s lying.

Guilty.

Hypocritical.

The sun is high and she pulls herself up. The people around her scatter and regroup, chattering away in a language she once understood but no longer cares about.

She grips the railing.

The sun is high and blinding as it curves around the sky, a missile aiming for it’s false end for it never does hit its target.

She can hear his voice whispering that nothing would happen, that he would take responsibility; that he would be there.

She is alone, still wearing the silver ring on her left hand and a broken promise stamped across her chest.

She’s failed.

The cars roar past, never stopping. One driver turns and in shock loses control. There’s a swerve, a crash and a halt as time breaks.

All you can hear are the screams of the living as she throws herself over the railing into the river, arms open, waiting to accept her child.