My city is split by a wide, winding river lined with restaurants and lively bars for your enjoyment, flooding occasionally to give you a sense of community solidarity and something to talk about.
It’s one am and I’m sitting by the black, snaking mass on my break.
Drunk revellers stumble past laughing, music thumps dully in the background,
but the night is calm and it’s starting to rain.
Laughing couples dash for cover as the drops light up the river with a thousand ripples of reflections and it seems to me like a giant fabric just dancing and waving all at once, lit up in brilliant purple and red from the lights of the bridge.
All the other noise seems to drop away and god you know, the sound of the rain hitting water is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.
I close my eyes and imagine being out on my own, on a little sail boat in the middle of the ocean, totally alone, at peace, sailing away with nothing in sight.
I imagine this is what it would sound like.
I feel myself smiling.
I open my eyes, the club music unmutes itself in my head.
Eyes drifting to my watch tell me I need to return to work.
I realise I’ve got three hours left, in wet clothes.
but the faint little smile doesn’t leave my lips for far longer than that.