There was a stillness in the air despite the buzz of the city people. The river created a chill that floated throughout the town and brushed the cheeks of anxious tourists.
I was one of them. A speck in an ocean of untold stories and lived lives. Out of place, yet somehow blending into the unity of the basic human race.
Damp. Cold. Busy. Silent.
The hum of the ferry lingered in passenger’s ears. Sleet clung to their worn-in wellingtons.
Nostalgia tingled on my lips. My mind was a tangled, intentional chasm of sparking vines about to give in. Yet, my thoughts drifted like a floater amongst the waves on a summer’s day.
I relished in observing life.
The monotony of existence threatened should you set foot on Routine’s shore. I wanted to keep that tone imprinted in my mind and mood, to carve out the scent of the streets and the taste of the coffee on my heart.
So much awaited me the minute I exited that momentary limbo.
A new decade. A new year.
We do not place enough sentimentality on simple pleasures. Yet, even I could not deny the feeling in my bones of greatness that was about to touch my hands.
I waited. I held on.