About Riddle Me This
A short piece about uncertainty, happiness and rain. I’m not going to say much about this one and simply let it speak for itself.
The cobblestones were grey, cold and unforgiving beneath his feet. The street slithered through the city like the skeletal remains of a serpent. Draped around his shoulders was a grey coat, the cast of the artificial golden light gave it a silvery shimmer in the downpour. Rain ran down the sides of a face, descending down from the watery mess that had been a poor excuse of a hairstyle to begin with.
In the dark of the eve the smile on his lips was hidden from sight, at least for those who did not know where to look. Running a gloved hand through soaked hair the man stopped and let his mind wander where his feat could not. Driblets of water clung to his glasses, obscuring much of what he gazed at.
His flawed eyes looked, studied, analyzed, without really seeing and in seeing close to nothing he saw so much more. The whispered roar of the rain dulled the sounds of the sleeping city. Listening to the sound of his own thoughts infused him with the clarity of shallow depth.
Muting his thoughts he let everything soak through him with the rain, the sounds hiding amidst the hammering of descending water, the humming of a car off in the distance, the chill of damp fabric against his skin, and the sensation of his own effortless breathing. In the void of that nothingness he was touched by something profound, a thought he could not comprehend or dress in words.
The lowering of an arm, a step taken, a man set into motion, around a corner and across a square. A turn left, hurriedly crossing a street, slowing down to a halt in front of a shop window. There was a pause, a slight shake of the head in dismissal, feet in motion again down another street.
On each side were parades of trees standing naked and silent in man-made rows in an attempt at brining order to nature. Squares and lines, shapes and forms, circles and spheres, how could they describe a world of chaos, a natural world without form or reason?
Simple answers for simple minds, the man thought to himself as he continued down the street. Reality, he continued musingly. Reality can’t be described in order or with reason. It is the frightening, chaotic mess of what happens naturally – everywhere, all the time.
Thoughts that were not really thoughts circled in the man’s head. Perhaps he had been right or perhaps he was foolishly certain of things that are in essence uncertain. The secret, the only thing that mattered, was that at that moment the man had a smile on his face.
A smile the rain could not wash away.