A Male character from Preludes
Six o'clock, the night fell clean and cold. As usual, I'm all covered in dirt and dust, from head to toe. Everyone else around me has the same filth, same expressionless face and the same reason as to why I am still here. The wind moaned through the trees as if a million pipes played the air. Gusts shook old windowpanes and sounded like spirits rushing past. Streets are empty, vacant lots inhabited by newspapers and a creature lies under the rain. I can see the lights from the lamps past the windows, and beyond glass there's fine furniture. No one seems to close their curtains in this city, except me.
I rearranged my pillows one more time, finally resting on my back in a snarl of crumpled linen. Despite my worn-out body and exhausted eyes, sleep would not touch me, and the recurring questions and images slowly returned.
Is this how I planned my life to be? Working each day with no real goal or ambition? Seeing the same people everyday, being drenched in soot and dirt each time? Is this all the world has to offer to me? The questions played in my head like a quiet melody and trailed off into the night.
I already knew morning had arrived. The blinding light that seeps through my broken blinds, indeed I considered getting it fixed, but what's the point in fixing something that will simply wither away? Look at those people, marching in both directions and repeating each morning, in the end we'll all depart in the same place. Time to grab a cup of coffee to began my yet again sorrowful life. Mrs. Fielding setting up her cookie stall, Mr. Melton aligning his ornaments from big to small, everyone seems so prearranged...