As the crow flies, I flew down a maze of streets and skipped across pristine lawns not knowing where I was yet guided by the scent of cotton candy that grew more intoxicating the further I moved into the outskirts of the bubbling city. Buildings rose from the ashes of what had come before, and people skipped about just as they always had, but I didn’t see them. Instead, I saw the animals, on every street corner and in every garden as I span and hollered at the top of my aching lungs. With a motley crew of cats and dogs hot on my heels, rats and rabbits joined forces with magpies and squirrels not to mention the foxes who had awakened early from their urban slumber to accompany me on the last leg of my journey. I didn’t recognise the foxes, but they recognised me, and as I barked at them, they shrieked as if to will me on as my feet kicked the melting asphalt launching me down another sidewalk. As the buildings grew taller and the light of the sun reflected off a trillion blinking windows, I wiped the sweat from my eyes before skipping through a river of cars caught in a traffic jam. With horns blaring and music pumping, I cut through them followed by the animals, and although I couldn’t see their faces, those stuck in the jam thought they had slipped into a strange and sudden dream. They were shouting and pointing, first at me, and then at the dozens of feathered and furry creatures flanking me on both sides. Like a tidal wave, we washed through the concrete jungle until I found myself coming to a halt at a set of lights. It wasn’t that they were red, but rather that I had caught sight of something between a break in two looming office blocks. In the slither of blue sky between, I saw the distant horizon, and turning as it always had, the Ferris wheel in all its unworldly glory. Closing my eyes, the scent of cotton candy was rich enough to give me goosebumps. And that music—how it reminded me of her—and how it made me sway.
A Journal for Damned Lovers UK
A Journal for Damned Lovers US