The lake was as still and shiny as glass, as if he could step on it and walk all the way across. It was one of those days when anything seems possible, and he stood there, breathing deep and the brilliance of the bustling city. Buskers performing on street corners, the greasy meaty aroma of Tony’s food truck soaking the city air. People jostled back and forth, bumping into on another as horns blared in the background. Tears rolled from Mike’s eyes and down his cheeks. He let them flow in silence.
Silence, that’s all there ever was. What soul he wouldn’t sacrifice to bring sound back to the world, to bring life back to the world. Mike looked at the water, a shriveled-up grandfather stared back. With a shaky hand he wiped his face. Breathing deep he numbed the ache inside. Rage was better. Rage kept you going.
A shadow flit across Mike’s face, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. Swiveling as best he could, he caught its trajectory. Just a bird. This time.
Tragic song-less creatures. They, perhaps, were the only things he allowed himself to pity.
Noting the shifting of the sun in the sky he knew it was time to move. Readjusting the bow across his back he turned from the lake. A vibrant pink poked out from the grass near his feet. Mike’s lip curled up into a snarl as he stomped on the plant, twisting his foot to grind it in the dirt. Seeing it successfully demolished he spit on it for good measure.
Memories flashed back of fifty years prior. How eagerly he had chanted with them to save the planet. Save the planet? What a fool he had been, and now he had a lifetime to pay for it.