Steel glinting bright sunlight from polish, reflecting off of windows twenty stories above, mirroring and cascading in a magnificent ripple of light. Rolling wheels following well worn sidewalks, over small dark spots of discarded chewing gum staining the intersections and bus stops, clanking across the pavement cracks in a constant clatter. Scents of perfume wafts from swinging doors opening into luxury shops filled with rich lingerie and nightgowns for the romantic ladies, evening dresses and fur, mingling with the sour street wind into the sallow fragrance of a trashcan. Marko stood against the wall looking up into the mirrors of shining glass above, cubicles stacked on top of each other like giant Rubik’s cubes, containers for millions of prolonged dreams, steadily increased by inflation. “I voted for lower taxation last time, look what it got us.. a bit more..” he muttered to himself, casting an explanatory hand to the towering scaffolding surrounding a gigantic government building undergoing renovation. “Every day there is more for the faceless, nothing for the faces.”  He seemed to be going through a dilemma, having a roadside revelation while waiting for the bus to arrive. “We have a shortage of medicine, a shortage of food and nutrition. It seems like the that should be avoidable.. there is nothing stopping the flow except pure greed. People who care about nothing but expansion, continually building and moving, bigger and better.” He mumbled like a man crazy after a night of drinking, but stood tall and stately like a man talking in a microphone in front of a large audience of hurried pedestrians, none able to hear more than a few words as they scatter with the winding roads or pace for a taxi, or sit in a side of the bench looking cornered and imprisoned in the booth while waiting for the bus, listening to the ranting of a madman next to them.

And the bus finally arrives, for a new horde of listeners to gather around in their hurried frenzy. “What has more rights than a man, more wealth than all nations combined and ownership of more property than mankind?” The words falling in discord to the rumbling of diesel engines and clatter of feet busily finding a way from A to B, acting as a cover for the unseen, that which evades our senses, hiding in simplicity like some unforeseen predator. Aching for a chance to lunge into the superficial surroundings of our psyche, but in that moment it is lost; seen and destroyed - the connection was broken. Marko turned on a heel and walked several paces, shuffling in short and unsteady steps to the adjacent building, and leaned against the wall for some rest.

 

In all things are found several parts, there are those that grant life, nurturing until fruition and readily dropping the burden on the ground, sowing seed for another generation. And there are those that take, carrying the shells to a moldy cave where they wait for the unknown hunter to crack and devour in the darkness of winter. And there are those that are never found, lying in wait for the hungry but overlooked, spread in front of the needy and discarded like trash. Still none can foresee the outcome of our actions except a few; those who can feel our history and our future is intertwined without meaning, no clear distinction between that which is, was or is to be. A common similarity to the actions, familiarity in the slight gestures, words and insinuations remind of deja-vu, of a time far gone where memory is forbidden. Of a detail forgotten like the clarity of a vivid dream fades moments after awaking, pen in hand to draw the beasts from the netherworld only to end up with undecipherable scribbles and scratches on napkins and scraps to represent the closest interpretation of mystery, taking form in our desire and haunting us with angry vengeful fury, always questioning the interpretation for meaning. Cross examining our fantasies with a sly grin of decency, determined to discover the source of imagination.

But also, along with the uncertainty that shrouds everything, there is clarity; Eking into the darkest places to hide among decaying cement, blending well into the moss and ruin of former grandeur, taking shape in the roots of ivy slowly climbing rocky walls, constantly traversing the forbidden slopes of consciousness to find what?

“But a blip in the spectrum, a glimpse of reality is all we are. Our lives become catastrophe while we worry about what whoever thinks of my presentation, did I make a good impression?” Words cascading into the endless cacophony of rush hour, blending with sirens and engines into the background. “Sir..” My words broke in front of my lips ”Sir.. you dropped your hat, here…” and the hand pushed into his gut, pressing warm and strong against wool and cotton layers, breaking concentration in a fleeting moment all connection disappeared. He put the hat back on its lopsided perch, coins falling out from around lazy curls of black hair, tinkling on the pavement like the zills of a dancer weaving a mesmerizing rhythm into the night air. Calling , calling, and becoming silent behind chaos, feet stumbling forward, the journey never ending, casually strolling towards the darkness, its only a hundred and fifty feet to sanity.