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2.15 a.m.
Jason Quek
22 Dec 2001
2.15 a.m.
It had been raining for hours. A walk would be good, something whispered to me.
It was cold and windy. With a song of air running through the back of my mind, and with nowhere to go, I just followed where the road led me.
I walked on water and leaped over puddles and snails. Hurried cars and bikes churned powdery mists in their wakes. Orange streaks of rain draped the street lamps like living shrouds.
It stung my arms, and dripped down my nose and ears. It ran through my hair, and down the back of my neck.
I paused. I looked up and I closed my eyes, feeling the icy sky splash onto my face.
And for the briefest flicker of a moment, I felt free, and was at peace with myself again.
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