There’s a strange feeling to the city this evening. The atmosphere is incredibly intense and there’s an edge to the air, as if something is going to happen. An air of anticipation hangs in the sky. Up here on the 4th floor, it’s almost like the clouds are just above my head, giving a claustrophobic feeling. The birds on the tin roof opposite me are just sitting, waiting and a few drops of rain tease my window. The window is wide open but the odd, random, breath of air seems to just mock me. I feel my tshirt slowly starting to stick to me, starting in the small of the back and working its way upwards. The styrofoam chair doing its best to absorb my sweat as it was done with dozens of other single-serving new-media workers long forgotten.
I think it may be the scent of smoke in the air, and the low-lying, rain-saturated clouds giving a dark gloom to the air. This and the distant din of a new born rush hour, say to me that Autumn is skulking over the horizon. With Autumn brings a sense of regret, many things planned, few things accomplished, people met and people forgotten, another summer wasted.
“But the last day of summer never felt so cold.
The last day of summer never felt so old.
All that I have. All that I hold. All that is wrong. All that I feel for or trust in or love. All that is gone”