It seems to be getting colder day after day.
The city sparkles, millions of lights, each its very own colour, and a strong wind starts blowing as I get out of the subway station.
My hands ache, little needles puncturing my skin. I struggle to light a cigarette either way, and I try my best to ignore the cold, even if I am kind of freezing.
As I start walking, I notice how empty and desolated the streets look. Well, nobody has a need to be around at 7 AM on a Saturday morning...
I fill my lungs with cigarette smoke as I wait for the traffic lights to turn green. It's still dark outside and the sparkling holiday lights are irritating my eyes. Finally, I can cross the street. A dog waits on the other side of the boulevard, his tail wagging. I think he's hungry but I can't help him out. All I've got with me are my cigarettes and some money.
I have to hurry up to get to work. My fingers are getting numb and the cigarette is halfway finished. I want to drink my hot coffee. My eyes are stinging and a small tear is running down my left cheeck. I think to myself that my left eye was always a bit more sensitive than the other.
And 9 hours later, I'll be repeating the same routine, but the other way around.
At least if it would snow, the falling snowflakes would hide me, and I could rest there, bathed in their warmth, until I would forget I ever existed...
The city sparkles, millions of lights, each its very own colour, and a strong wind starts blowing as I get out of the subway station.
My hands ache, little needles puncturing my skin. I struggle to light a cigarette either way, and I try my best to ignore the cold, even if I am kind of freezing.
As I start walking, I notice how empty and desolated the streets look. Well, nobody has a need to be around at 7 AM on a Saturday morning...
I fill my lungs with cigarette smoke as I wait for the traffic lights to turn green. It's still dark outside and the sparkling holiday lights are irritating my eyes. Finally, I can cross the street. A dog waits on the other side of the boulevard, his tail wagging. I think he's hungry but I can't help him out. All I've got with me are my cigarettes and some money.
I have to hurry up to get to work. My fingers are getting numb and the cigarette is halfway finished. I want to drink my hot coffee. My eyes are stinging and a small tear is running down my left cheeck. I think to myself that my left eye was always a bit more sensitive than the other.
And 9 hours later, I'll be repeating the same routine, but the other way around.
At least if it would snow, the falling snowflakes would hide me, and I could rest there, bathed in their warmth, until I would forget I ever existed...