I write to you from the edge of the bridge. My feet are dangling above a massive drop in to the freezing river.
There are locks lining the bridge, put there by young lovers.
There's a boat passing by me. The city lights are extraordinarily bright.
I am alone.
I am at peace.
My earbuds are in my ears, but I'm not listening to music. I don't need to. I have all the sound I need.
Besides, if I listen to music, I'm afraid that I'll start dancing and fall right off the edge. That would be no good. I have lots to do tomorrow.
Maybe I'll go home before the sun rise.
YOU ARE READING
Me, Unfortunately
AléatoireA lot of strange shit happens in my life, so I might as well document it somewhere in case I die and anybody wants to know what happened to me.
