Breakdown on 42nd Street

The night air was cold and nippy, and a certain overhang seemed to envelop the darkened street as though some sort of presence was there. A young man was the only visible human being one would have saw that night, if they had been out and about. Yet everyone seemed to crawl inside, as if the dark would somehow overtake them. The man walked carefully down the concrete, taking precise steps that would have seemed to be all the same if someone had gone and measured the distance between each. He seemed to be in no hurry to get anywhere, just taking his time, pausing every once in awhile to look at the buildings that surrounded him, or at the occasional leaf blowing by. He kept his hands in his pockets, to warm them, one would assume, and his hat was off to one side covering his right eye. At the corner of 42nd and Phillip the man stopped walking for the first time in a couple miles. A bench was placed there and within the next instant the man took a seat and removed his hat from his head. Then he did something none would have expected. The young man just placed his head in his hands and started to cry. The tears began to flow down his cheeks, starting at his eyes and ending at his lips. He remained that way for quite sometime, until finally he reached into his coat and pulled out a small red box. The young man stared at it for a minute, as if trying to decide whether he should open it or not, but in the end the decision to open it won out, and inside was a perfect diamond ring, with a flawless golden band. And at that moment, anyone would understand what sort of eeriness hung in the air that night, it was the feeling of a broken heart, torn in to pieces, by a love now lost...forever.



[side note: i wrote this a while ago and and it has since been continued into something resembling the makings of a novel. even if it is never finished. ]