The Park

I wasn’t alone in the park – there were trees, flowers, noxious fumes from the cars passing the street alongside. The sky seemed repentant, inverted, the sea it had sucked the past few days flushed out. But the sun was drunk, sleepy, about to happily roll over to the other side. Cunning, I thought.

I could hear the fishes talk, but they were in the water, and I had to laugh at the absurdity. I pitied a few of them, dead ones, which people like me ate at the seafood restaurant at the edge of the park. I could hear laughter, music, imagine people happy. I knew it was about time as I saw the first Tsunami wave rise. It felt nice to die knowing that you could.

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