l'Enfer

We trudged the cold, wet boulevards past dead men and their glories, our fingers stiff with winter, to stand at the gates of hell in awe. Wretched souls, tormented through their deaths and wrangled out of the statue in agony, I stared for ages as giant snow flakes began falling in the Shadows above.

The first time I saw them, how floored, how devastated at the overwhelming pain in my chest. Now I wanted to run my hands over every detail, memorize them in my fingerprints.

I stood at the end of the subway platform today and stared into the black belly of the city. Those tunnels of Paris, tunnels of New York, I peer into the darkness and try to discover the secret of the metropolitan monster. Always at the edge, always too aware, too afraid to run carelessly into the dark void, to dare uncover what lies beyond. A great caterpillar of a train swerved down the rails toward the station. A hundred people shook to its rhythm.

Soon, me too.