Up in Flames
Singe
There was something off about the air in the city. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it was there. Everyone on the street was on edge, walking with their heads down, bags and briefcases clutched to their chests. There was no laughter, no friendly chatter, not even a cell phone conversation to be heard throughout the crowd.
Or maybe that was just him projecting himself onto the passersby as he leaned against the crosswalk signal and took another drag from his cigarette, checking the time on the screen of his phone. It was half past five. He'd been waiting here for almost an hour.
Just like old times. He would always wait for her here so that they could walk home together after work. No matter the weather, no matter how many times she ran late, he waited for her. In his mind, it had always been the least he could do to make sure she was safe.
To her, it had been a tremendous act of kindness. Then again, she had always reacted that way when it came to acts of common human decency. Maybe that was because, despite the hope she had held for humanity, she could see everything falling apart through the cracks in its facade, just like he could.
He rapped his knuckles absentmindedly against the signal post, causing the business man nearest to him to tense up and step away, eying him warily. Laughing to himself, he crossed his arms across his chest to stop the fidgeting. The light changed and the business man scurried his way across the street, looking over his shoulder the entire way.
Rolling his eyes, he reached up and retrieved his spent cigarette from between his lips, bending down to stub it out on the concrete before pulling out his pouch and tossing the butt inside. He replaced it with a fresh one, the end catching just as his phone went off. His stomach flipped as he read the words on the display.
About five minutes away.
Taking a deep breath, he turned his phone off. Somewhere to his left he could hear a motorcycle revving. Turning his head toward the noise, he watched as the rider flew past, a little too close to the sidewalk, nearly clipping several people before darting away around the street corner. Brakes squealed, people cried out in shock and moved to crowd the scene of the incident, leaving him alone on the corner.
There it is. Always with the dramatic distraction tactics. His hands clenched and unclenched, but he fought to keep himself composed. If he made a scene now, it would all be for nothing. Still, the immense guilt he felt for standing by swelled in the back of his mind.
"You Heiwajima?" A rasping voice met his ears from behind.
About damn time.
"What's it to ya?" Tapping his cigarette, he watched the ash fall to the ground at his feet, not bothering to turn around and address the newcomer face to face.
"I have the documents you requested."
_____
The secrets you tell me I'll take to my grave.
There's bones in my closet, but you hang stuff anyway.
Or maybe that was just him projecting himself onto the passersby as he leaned against the crosswalk signal and took another drag from his cigarette, checking the time on the screen of his phone. It was half past five. He'd been waiting here for almost an hour.
Just like old times. He would always wait for her here so that they could walk home together after work. No matter the weather, no matter how many times she ran late, he waited for her. In his mind, it had always been the least he could do to make sure she was safe.
To her, it had been a tremendous act of kindness. Then again, she had always reacted that way when it came to acts of common human decency. Maybe that was because, despite the hope she had held for humanity, she could see everything falling apart through the cracks in its facade, just like he could.
He rapped his knuckles absentmindedly against the signal post, causing the business man nearest to him to tense up and step away, eying him warily. Laughing to himself, he crossed his arms across his chest to stop the fidgeting. The light changed and the business man scurried his way across the street, looking over his shoulder the entire way.
Rolling his eyes, he reached up and retrieved his spent cigarette from between his lips, bending down to stub it out on the concrete before pulling out his pouch and tossing the butt inside. He replaced it with a fresh one, the end catching just as his phone went off. His stomach flipped as he read the words on the display.
About five minutes away.
Taking a deep breath, he turned his phone off. Somewhere to his left he could hear a motorcycle revving. Turning his head toward the noise, he watched as the rider flew past, a little too close to the sidewalk, nearly clipping several people before darting away around the street corner. Brakes squealed, people cried out in shock and moved to crowd the scene of the incident, leaving him alone on the corner.
There it is. Always with the dramatic distraction tactics. His hands clenched and unclenched, but he fought to keep himself composed. If he made a scene now, it would all be for nothing. Still, the immense guilt he felt for standing by swelled in the back of his mind.
"You Heiwajima?" A rasping voice met his ears from behind.
About damn time.
"What's it to ya?" Tapping his cigarette, he watched the ash fall to the ground at his feet, not bothering to turn around and address the newcomer face to face.
"I have the documents you requested."
_____
The secrets you tell me I'll take to my grave.
There's bones in my closet, but you hang stuff anyway.