Book of Qualities

Despair

 There are long cold nights in the city. When it is empty, silent. Lights are dimmed, covered by the late night glow, surrounded by a starless sky. A light breeze; a chill. A way of seeing things, a way of living. These are the few stragglers who make their way home slowly. They've worked long shifts and are weary. Going home, finally. Going home to the noise,the tears, the yelling. To the kitchen knives thrown, objects tossed haphazardly all around. Despair likes to follow, to listen. Watching, he waits. He finds these people regardless, but this is his favorite place to acquisition them. He doesn't just observe, however, his long, spider-like fingers brittle and blackened with ash reach up around the workers. Their coats flutter behind them, a chill goes down their spines. Too tired to turn and brush off Despair's grasp, they keep walking. Allowing him to grip their souls tight. Despair doesn't grin, he doesn't smile his face remains the same. His expression indifferent as he breathes in their sorrows. If he could smile, he would as he knows all the pain that these people have suffered, urging them to give up the fight. To let go.

The city is filled with skyscrapers, buildings, tall and short, some reach to the sky and tickle the clouds. Others stay close to the ground, safe and sturdy. Despair prefers the taller buildings-the ones that reach to where people never could. He floats around the tops of the buildings, the flat roofs, and sits, unsuspecting. He waits. He waits for those he's seen before, for the tired and the lonely, the ones who he's followed. The ones who are silently drowning in the sea of people around them. The ones who want out. When they reach the building, when they reach the point of no return, Despair is there to greet them. He welcomes them, with open arms, then he stands back, and watches. One foot in front of the other they move, step towards the edge. The blood pounding in their head, cars rushing beneath them. The incessant noise, never ending the screaming, voices all below. And when they have one final choice to make, when they are standing on the edge. Despair is there. And he gives the push.