Unborn Dreams

The surface of the street was cold and uncaring. Sitting with his back against a concreate wall, Dustin watched as the men in suits walked briskly to their respective places of work. Thinking about the day ahead of them. How much money they would make for themselves, and if they can, for their companies. Making plans for the weekend in Tahoe, Napa, or Carmel. Fantasies of drinking wine by the water with their wives, or in some cases, mistresses. Never bothering to turn their heads and give a smile, even if fleeting and brief, to the man sitting on the sidewalk.

So close, he could reach out and touch them, but that would be like crossing some kind of barrier. Traveling to another dimension. Plus, it was not allowed. To wake them out of their hegemonic dreams, meant the police would come and shoo him away; or worse yet beat him like that night last June. Or was it May? One day bled into the next with no end in sight.

It was at this thought that Dustin decided he would kill himself tonight. To take too much junk and relax into the darkness. Like falling into a soft warm blanket after enduring a cold winter’s storm. Only this time when he hit the blanket, instead of sinking to a point and stopping- he would just keep sinking until the warmth and the darkness took him back home. Back to the place he was before he was born.