A girl in the city.

“And yet who is to say what kind of things churned behind your eyes ?”

pascal
Art by : Pascal Campion

Who even looks up anymore?

Some days I do; most days I don’t. I’m busy trying not to lose time, to make the few hours outside of work count double, triple. Honestly, I am a bit too busy planning my first trip abroad to pay attention to airplanes in the sky. Or to stop in the middle of the unending human flow of the city to gaze at planes weaving soundlessly through clouds. I must have missed more than a couple of these flights, these vanishing doors to daydreams. If this sends a twinge of disappointment in me, I am learning to ignore it. I cannot rise to every occasion. There are just some trains you are going to miss in life, some planes you will never catch.

But then again, there are those that you do seize.

Like today, in the late evening. The sun dipped its toes in the ocean and let out a sigh that was all golden light. A soft caress of warmth at the back of trees, an aureate glint on satellite dishes, a light underlining the otherwise anonymous beauty of you in this loud city.

Did you have any idea what kind of image you made for? You, on the fourth and last floor of an apartment building, sitting by the open window on the windowsill, pale blue curtains fluttering around you; your head resting on one knee, your face upturned. You, one human in a jungle of a city, unstirring where everyone else always moves, moves, moves. And yet who is to say what kind of things churned behind your eyes ? What kind of plane your small hand must have caught.

How many years have you been here, dreaming? To jump on the first plane to pass by your window and to fly away into the night, to wake up to some view other than the one you’ve come to know?

More beautiful than a plane in the clear blue sky, a girl with big dreams in the city, looking out of her window.


Note : This is NaNoWriMo Day 6. You can find Day 5, “Another name for wonder” here ! 🙂

One thought on “A girl in the city.”

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