Cube Bridge

Setting Sun

On the distance, something flickered.

It was a dot of light. It pulsed as it grew in size.

I willed myself to move towards it, hoping that my legs finally worked.

And for some reason, I gravitated towards the light.

Or maybe it was pulling me.

Movement stopped when I was inches away from it.

It was an orb so massive. So radiant. Yet, staring at it doesn't hurt my eyes.

It was so warm, too.

I pictured myself moving closer to it.

Embracing it.

Letting its warmth rock me to sleep.

But instead of slumber, a torrent of memories flooded my mind.

Appearing all over the darkness as if there were rows of massive screens showing different movies.

And the movies were all different scenes of my life.

Specifically, these last eight hours...

The orb flashed brighter.

—————————

I pulled my jacket's hood up as I stepped out of the office. The sidewalk was damp with this Friday night's drizzle which might become a downpour later on. The after-office crowd was like ants going to different directions, bathed by the glow of neon lights on the sides of almost every skyscraper in this part of the city.

I wound my way through the human traffic, up an overpass, down an underpass, and across three pedestrian lines until I reached what we call the Happy Alley. Rows of bars stood side by side, with plastic tables and chairs on the sidewalks waiting to be populated. Each bar played its own genre of music which made this place an auditory hellhole for the uninitiated. But for the regulars, the noise was now a part of the ambiance.

My haunt was at the far end, a brick building that used to be a motorcycle repair shop. A trio of friends bought the place, remodeled it into a bar, and kept the repair shop's equipment as decor. Steel shelves stood in corners, rusty tools hung on hooks, and parts of the floor were dark with ancient oil stains.

Inside was an L-shaped bar counter with stools, and three flat-screen TVs on the wall. My spot was the stool next to the wall, right in front of the third TV that was stuck on the sports channel. A basketball game was on tonight, a fierce fight between white versus purple jerseys.

I closed my eyes while waiting for a bartender, squinting as I pinched the bridge of my nose. Heaviness brewed in my head, threatening to become a full-blown migraine if I don't rest early or at least pop a medicine. But why would I do that? I just spent the entire shift revising a ton of first drafts from the junior writers. Finishing such a workload deserved a celebratory bucket of beer and a plate of tofu with cheese.

"The usual?"

I didn't need to open my eyes. The cheerful, high-pitched voice was of Cassie's. She was one of the three who bought the place. Her energy was a contrast to the bar's lifeless ambiance (why they chose this theme was a mystery to many, including me).

"Yes, Cassie," I answered.

It took her less than a minute to put a blue bucket of beer in front of me, along with the complementary salted peanuts. I swigged the first bottle.

Several minutes later, I downed my third bottle. My head was getting lighter, and my body warmer.It was still too early to call it a day, though.

My hand crept towards my pocket, feeling the rectangular bulge of my phone.

Why should I reach for it anyway?

Maybe there's a notification. A message. Maybe a call.

Yeah right...

I reached for my fourth bottle instead.

While my other hand signaled another bucket to Cassie.

***

by lbluntwrites