Creative Writing 1 – Urban Sadness

Dawn asks:

What is going on in this picture? Who is that (He or she)?  Where is that?  Why are they there?  Why are they sitting?  What happened just before (or what is about to happen…) this moment?

It’s been seven long, lonely years, but he still misses her. He’d come into the City to visit the place where she died — a hard working executive, a beloved spouse, a reluctant hero — and was overwhelmed by the memories. So many. Must get away, find someplace away from all these people trying to comfort each other — and him. Too many people. Too much color. Here’s a deserted alley. That’ll do. Have to sit and try not thinking.

Voices, cars, fire trucks pass the desolate passageway; a cacophony of life on the streets of the City. Before, he would have been a willing participant and contributor. But now things are different. The bustle grates on the ears and pushes into the deep recesses of the mind.

At a close, almost recognizable sound he lifts his head, certain he heard her bright voice calling — nothing. His imagination must have been playing tricks on him again. Looking around and seeing no one, he pulls down his cap and resumes weeping into his folded knees. Tears for the loss of her, of so many others in the September 11th tragedy.


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