My sister once said, "the average person walks the height of this building," pointing her petite hand lazily upward, "five times, every day." Glancing nervously where she once pointed, the same threshold of amazement that stood in my way, stays stilly. The Willis Tower, requesting so much sky, stands parallel to me, making my sister appear a liar, is not honoring her statement inaccurate.
Making my way to the yellow line train, the air dragged with it, a stale annoyance. I lift me legs like drum sticks up the stairs, and sit with the muchness around me. As the train approaches, it doesn't sing; it growls like a hungry stomach, churning for passengers. Stepping into the mouth of the train, there are empty seats everywhere. I awkwardly pick a seat, spinning and half-sitting to stand again until I find a corner seat I can press my body against. "This will do," I whisper aloud. The tense pain in my legs release like cut cords.
A comparable tenseness arises at the site of a man with a pig mask on, calmly and invisibly waiting, for I hadn't seen him in his stillness. The air begins to coil as he stands, cradling a shimmering item in his hand, bent at the knees, incoherently yelling in my direction. The distance between us has been seized by his dominance. I stand quickly, putting my hands behind my back, removing my wedding ring and slipping it into my back pocket. Knowing I won't be able to afford my life returning empty handed, I pull my wallet out, and toss it to him. His words stop as long as it takes him to realize what he has clumsily caught, then looks at me and fills the enclosed space with more words. Slashing the Fossil watch off my wrist, I thought to myself, every man should be entitled to time, and certainly know what time it is when they've died. As the thought ends, he says something, pointing at the door.
The train has stopped, so I stumbled out, like I had been regurgitated. The thin, long, wretched smelling train had tossed my empty wallet at me. It bounced off my beating chest, giving it extra momentum. All I could do was listen to the beast's cry for more food slowly dissipate into the distance. Putting my wallet in my pocket and my ring forcefully back onto my finger, it has gotten so comfortable that it won't slip on without a little resistance. I begin my longer than usual drift to my sister's house I'm staying in. The nagging silence has never weighed as heavy as it has now.
My head falls to my chest after securely locking the door. Turning, I can see the night light bending weightlessly behind Robert's door. Stepping sideways inside, I make my way to his folded body and press my lips to his forehead. I see a beautiful silence in his small body as I tuck the covers up to his chin. He failed to respond to me presence, and I exited, hopeful he hadn't.
Crossing the hall, my sister called my name out from the kitchen.
"Would you like some tea?"
She was sitting at the table with two mugs and a worn face. I told Bethany I was exhausted.
"You must be. You search for her everywhere." She poured hot water into my cup. "Tell me. How many photos did you take of her today?"
"I'm going to bed." But I left my camera on the table.
There were many things that kept quiet that night, far more than usual. As I laid vertically, I knew the buildings sat upright, tapering off into the picture-still night, standing delicately like fingers. Most colors had paused, disassembling, then waiting to return with the morning light.
