He crossed the street with the collar of his coat pulled up and clutched around his neck. The pooling of water made mirrors upon the asphalt, mirrors marred by the occasional drop of water the winds knocked off the towering buildings. His foot broke one mirror, an explosion of stars spreading cold water across his shoes. You could hear a mutter as he gave his legs an extra shake before exiting the street with a hop onto the curb.
The street concentrated the night's darkness with the glitter of the moon off all that was wet. The streetlights seemed to echo the moon as younger brothers. A pure whiteness in the midst of the asphalt and towers, a naive light. The man passed as a shadow beneath one light. Shifting his hands from his collar down to his pockets, shoulders lifted to hold his upturned collar high. His breath shone as bright smoke coming from shadow. His pace took him from under the streetlight, and you could best mark his movement with the gentle clap of his shoes upon the concrete.
As his steps came upon an intersection, the street went quiet. Suddenly, you could see a shine from his eyes as they were cast up. The light from his eyes did not flicker as he gazed across the street. He seemed to be looking at the window of an apartment building found across the street. Which window you could not say, but his determination proved that he knew which. The street remained held in silence for several breaths. Then a name was whispered into the wind, and the eyes blinked out. Once more his steps could be heard, now turned to follow the turn in the sidewalk.
And the man passed on, all movement disappearing into the blackness of the street.
2 comments:
Cool. Keep up the postage. I like if but Something about this one comes off as forced (don't hate me).
Heh, all my writing feels forced to me. In this instance I was capitalizing on the noir setting to go way over the top. All this stuff is just playing around. Oh and I'd rather receive comments like that than just "I liked it."
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