Charlie St. Cloud and the Passenger by Chance
06 October 2011
“I believe in miracles.” *1
The tiny raindrops create a hazy glow of orange beam from the halogen lamp in the streets which eventually penetrate the soul of the drizzle. There was a soulless man in the evening: who walked lonely like a cloud. The face of ambivalence, lost in the sea of other human beings. All dressed up --- nowhere to go.
“Of course I remember, but you seem to have forgotten the predicate nominative. The correct syntax is It is I.” *2
That was I.
“There was enough to raise questions, but not enough for answers.” *3
Not by chance, of which I presume, I reached the bus stop.
As I see it, bus stops are like turning points of our lives. You left some so that you can proceed for some. People travel, as always. People are never satisfied.
Across the street, a bus stop faces another bus stop. Just like the North faces the South, they pursue opposing directions which will never meet. They will be constantly parting, which made the cold night gloomier.
“On the horizon, he saw the full moon. God dropped it there, he was sure, as a reminder of our small place in the world. A reminder that what is beautiful is fleeting.” *4
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