Late night Rendezvous

Haze

A haze hung over the flashing fluorescent lights, headlights in the distance lit up the highways, and clouds hid the crescent moon. The stars were veiled by an orange smog, and the city buzzed like a full bee hive. It was like a heart, with the streets being the arteries and veins, constantly pumping, pumping, pumping. Lights flashed in the centre, stretching out to the outskirts, slowly fading to small light flickers towards the darkness. Strangers walked the streets, looking for some loving, or waiting under flickering post lamps for their share. Everyone was in a rush to get somewhere, anywhere, that was full of lively, writhing bodies that swayed violently in time to an inaudible beat. Through the streets the smell of tobacco hung, with a hint of sewage and often a whiff of food being cooked up in a diner. The smell of petroleum dazed pedestrians, as all sorts of modes of transportation passed by.

No one is lonely here, but everyone is very much alone. No matter who they are with, what dim stories flash behind their eyes, or where they hang around at night, they are all alone. Piano lounges are filled with people who cant hear the tinkling of the piano, the dim lights shrouding everyone's faces in shadow, half lidded eyes scanning the room, taking shots of whiskey, the warm stinging in their their throats, the smoke stinging their nostrils, not much of a care in the world. The piano would strum its notes, the pianist's skilled, nimble fingers playing beautiful, melancholy tunes that tingle every cell in the room, even if it is not registered. Minds foggy, feelings jumbling as they straddle into the streets, to stumble on the cracked pavement, to look up at the smoky night sky.

The revving of engines, the click of some young lady's cheap heels, the distant horns honking, occasional laughs, disappearing into the night. The rush of wind through hair, eyes of every colour, seeing or not, reflecting sadness or joy or remorse. In the moment, with parted lips and flushed cheeks and sweaty palms, doing whatever they are doing. Feeling, hearts racing, throats tightening, chests heaving, breathing quick, thinking of forbidden love or the sweet tinkle of that one tune, they are their fullest selves in this moment.

Here, in this buzzing, sad city, what can be done to feel some togetherness?

(A/N this is just descriptive mind boggle- a small glimpse into the haze where we will face some things of interest..)