Jeffrey Shell, Monday, 10 May 2004

Cigarette smoke soothed as the wind hit his back.

Benotz folded his arms and leaned on the bridge's iron railing. Grey skies matched his thoughts. Cigarette smoke soothed as the wind hit his back. The bridge shook as a trolley rattled past, and Benotz noticed the waves beginning to pick up in the river below. Another drag, another wave of calm. He cast his eyes back towards the rehabilitated industrial buildings of Halo District and sighed. He didn't want to go back there today. Not for a while. Benotz was overwhelmed with a feeling that he couldn't quite peg down; he only knew that life felt different. Heavy and electric somehow. He had to step away.

Benotz ground up the remains of the Lucky Strike in his fingers and watched tobacco bits scatter over the water. Reaching into the front pocket of his denim jacket (a favorite), he pulled out another cigarette and huddled in the wind to ignite it. Turning his back towards the district, he continued his journey across the bridge into a new burgeoning commercial sector with a new destination in mind - the bus station, and then wherever. A cold electric weight went through his system as he thought (briefly) of going to LGL Point. Benotz shook his head, breathed deep, and resolved to head in any other direction. But even he knew that no matter where he ended up, there were elements he could not escape.

This is Bridgeworks, © Monday, 10 May 2004. It is part of Perfect and Unbelievable Hearsay, which is part of euc.cx/ddec.

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