Before dawn

It was sunset. His father told him to go back home to eat and do homework.

Hanging up, he took in the view: He was on a wide bridge upon the river. Cars pass by zooming and honking towards either side. The bridge connects two areas of skyscraping apartments built 20 years ago, on either side of it too were sidewalks perpendicular to it. Underneath the lush trees that cover the sidewalks he could see the kids running back after school, the middle-aged men walking their dogs, lovers sitting on a bench and looking out to the river; quite a heartwarming scene. In between the riverbanks the river stretched wide and embraced the sun’s warm afterglow. Purple, yellow, orange, red… An entire canvas. This is beautiful, he thought, I want to linger here a while.

He saw two beautiful swallows flying out from the trees on the sidewalk. Chirping, encircling each other in the sky, joy. In his view from afar, diagonally and into the sun they go – it was like the whole world was theirs. If what he was seeing was a picture, the two birds would undoubtedly be the subject of the audiences’ attention. He imagined them then flying thousands of miles away together to some other oasis beyond him.

His father called again, asking him why he was still not home 40 minutes after the call. It startled him a bit. He’s completely in love with the view: he didn’t know what time it was.

7:00pm. He’s in love but too bad it’s too late. The sun is almost completely obscured and the beautiful view that once was had gone. The birds too. He lets out a sighs with regret. I need to catch this view not right before it dissipates, he thought, but just as it comes to be: Before sunrise tomorrow. I don’t want to miss it anymore.

…Before dawn.

–end–