Relativity IV.

Ubiquitous tenebrosity. An eloquent description of the omnipresent darkness that was gradually encircling the sky, swallowing the sun only to spit it out in a matter of hours. The men, the money, the rides. Three for four. While historically designated to be deprived of rights, the women resorted to their own vehicles, leaving the two men to share a whineful electronic adaptation of the mechanical scooter. A crossroad, striped, impersonated the incarceration of the people who defied its purpose. Jaywalking. Pressure, tension, and particles of heavy air flushed into our faces, as our acceleration rose and strands of red and brunette hair floated behind.  

A duality. A moment of ambiguity in choice. A conversation. An imprudent comment. Rage. Then a strike of a hand and my subsequent downfall. Literally. Or possibly the wrongful conviction inside the wiring of such intelligent devices. A heartbeat, a lapse in judgment. My crash; an anomaly in a world that was so silent. A halt in rush and jokes. I was fine. He pulled me up, the second man, and I suddenly desired to ride once more. I found the incident amusing, ridiculous, out of the ordinary. Life carried on. 

The roads aligned, curving into a myriad of possibilities. We chose a sharp left, along the bank of the natural elements, ranging across the length of the park, only to encounter the most wonderful soul, not even 20 feet away. My brother, alongside his two female friends, was out and about, rocking the streets under lamp posts which became spotlights and green lights that resembled the thoughtful imagination of a playwright directing his best movie. A jolt of joy. A wave. A few words exchanged. A hug goodbye.

The night emerged onto an unseen street, segregated from the rest of the roads and intersections, flooded by children on plastic trucks yanking at their overweight mothers, for whatever reasons, allowing them to experience the beauty of the exhaustion of the secondborn. Lights hung above the setting, intending to create an atmosphere, a fairytale experience of the food show that hid within the boundaries of this isolated street, which drowned in the sounds of the stage ahead, populated by dispersed and static people, listening to the same sound on repeat, either hallucinating or unhinged, staring at three figures that seemed fictional. Surreal.

Ahead, laid the end of the night. A conversation, with little depth, immersed, rekindling the passions of old times and other current events which absorbed our time. A call, a parent, my mother. Stressed, fatigued, living in the monochromatic state previously described. Money. Its lack. A senseless fight, due to stress and chronic tiredness. A car was ordered, and then goodbyes were said. 

The first man, rated least relevant in this particular evening, remained what he was, irrelevant. The second man, who had endorsed himself with a beer, said his goodbyes as well, relinquishing his broken status. The woman. The only one who mattered. A hug, everlasting, filled with memories of the night and signaling towards the topics of conversation which were to be discussed at our next meeting. 

Good night.