The man’s vision is in infrared, nothing seems natural anymore. He travels to find relaxation, peace, discovery, even a moment of fun perhaps.
All he finds are empty streets full of people. Black and white buildings in a construe of colour.
Reaching for the connectedness of family and friends, but is unable to connect.
You are disconnected. Discombobulated. Distraught.
Ride a trolley up and down the streets of the city, wishing for the wind to wipe the cobwebs out of your skull.
I just want to see truth, or at least to know there is none to be found.
Dinner on the waterfront. Drinks down the hatch. Life is looking more optimistic, if only for a time, thanks to Irish coffee.
The midnight hour is upon us, and with it a new persona arises.
The man willingly chats with the cabbie, as if they are best friends. He is from Sudan, you tell him about your love of Kenya. We are bonded as kinsman by the time we reach our destination.
If only all of life could be short acquaintances with strangers, leaving you a better person.
You find yourself on a hotel ledge, wondering….
Horror and tortured souls.
A weekend passes, pushes life closer to the inevitable end.
Shell shocked in San Francisco.