Waiting For You

1.

I always loved the smell of this room; the parchment, the leather, the ancient oak. The glint of the damp stone. I loved the silence. It is late. The scholars have returned to their beds and the cobbled streets outside are deserted. The only sound is the shuffling of the old librarian. One by one he snuffs out the tallow candles. The moonlight picks out the gilded cross on an old testament. I am waiting for you.

2.

Somewhere behind me a taxi honks at a careless tourist. A pigeon makes an ambitious play for a fallen slice of pizza. The city is a teeming mass of life. A couple strolls towards me on the sidewalk. The young lady is eating from a polystyrene tray of chips. The young man is playing with his phone. She is startled by a passing bus and he takes the opportunity to steal a chip. She notices him and he returns to his phone with a cheeky grin. She regards him for a moment. It is a look I recognise... gratitude. They pass through me.

3.

A young man lays in a hospital bed. He is attended to by a machine with many appendages. Its white carapace shines in the sterile light. He understands that he is too young to die but his proximity to death is so close now that he can no longer comprehend it. His mind allows it to pass. It is a mercy I have felt. His wife reaches over from her seat and grasps his hand. There is nothing more for her to say but she does not need to speak. I have not felt this. I am intruding here but I feel like this man can help me. I wait until he passes. When he sees me, he speaks warmly in language I cannot understand, then he is gone.

4.

There is a ruined tower by the edge of the thicket in Lexington. It leans dangerously to one side. I have watched it for decades. I want to see it fall. The city is quiet now the people have gone. I pass the time watching the wildlife. These creatures were cats once. In the shadow of the building they play, they fight, they copulate. A buttress buckles slightly and a window on the 32nd floor shatters under the pressure. The creatures scatter. The smaller pieces almost tinkle as they hit the floor. I remember music.

5.

For the longest time it was just a sea of darkness. I never realised how close the stars were before. Now there is only one. I head for it. The journey is long in a way I never learned the words to describe. I try to create new ones but I lack the ability. Eventually it seems like the star grows to meet me. The surface envelopes me and my whole existence inverts. My senses are overwhelmed. The brightness transcends sight. The roar transcends sound. It is a different kind of abyss, the opposite of nothingness. But you are not here. I am waiting for you.