Drip…drip
Continuous drops of cold water fell over my right cheek, snaking down to my neck, leaving a chill in their wake. I was still lying on the wooden bench.
"It was a dream…, thank goodness", I murmured, exhaling a shaky breath.
I sat up slowly, my joints stiff from the uncomfortable position. As I stood up to stretch my numb legs, I patted my pockets searching for my phone. It was precariously dangling off the edge of my left pocket, seconds away from plunging to the damp floor.
Hastily, I grabbed it just in time, turning it to see the screen light up.
22 missed calls.
From my manager.
"Damn!" I muttered with an odd sense of calm. "Well, I needed some time for myself, didn't I?" I added.
As I reached for my bag, my hand brushed against the empty tea cup which tumbled on the floor with a dull clink.
The sight of it reminded me of the old man and his miraculous tea. The effects are still working it seems; my mind is unnaturally relaxed, and my heart eerily light. It was as if all my agitated emotions were swept away at once, leaving a strange void.
I froze for a moment, reflecting on the shift within me. The old me would have definitely freaked out and ran directly to the office, breathlessly apologizing to everyone. I would have been submerged by guilt and fear, wondering what the manager might say, or if there were some urgent matters that demanded my presence.
But not today.
The 22 missed calls were nothing more than numbers on a screen, devoid of meaning. Even after uttering these thoughts, my mind remained at ease, completely unwavering, as if the tea had dissolved the weight of every present and future worry.
A spark of realization lit within me. "That's it!" I said aloud, the words feeling odd but liberating, "I can finally take care of myself without minding others! The curse is lifted!"
It was already past midday. The idea of showing up in the office in the afternoon briefly crossed my mind, but was rapidly dismissed, as if it had never belonged to me in the first place.
I kept walking with no destination in mind. Contemplating the world through this totally new perspective, allowed me to savor the warm sunlight on my skin. A world where more than people mattered. A world where I was the one and only protagonist.
For the first time, the surrounding noise was muted, as if it was merely the background hum of my own story. Everything faded into a soft blur.
"Thief! Thief!", a woman screamed, her voice sharp with panic. "He stole my bag! Somebody stop him please! It has all my savings!"
I remained hard-hearted as the thief brushed past me. In fact, I couldn't even describe him, his face, his clothes, nothing. I could have slowed him down, but it was too much of a bother.
My mind was elsewhere. I was thinking about what to have for lunch as a delicious smell drifted from a nearby restaurant, making my stomach growl in anticipation. A scent of Neapolitan pizza – no doubts about it! The woman's cries seemed distant, and I found myself wholly absorbed in the simple, tasty pleasure of the moment.
It was strange, yet incredibly satisfying, how detached I had become, how easily I could shut out everything else. The joy of a warm meal, the sun on my skin and the soft caressing breeze were so overwhelming that, for the first time, I felt fulfilled.
After a few steps, I vaguely heard a commotion. Voices raised in agitation, a few hurried footsteps, nothing too alarming. The bandit had been apprehended and the woman's belongings were returned to her.
That is the order of things.
A few moments later, the drama was already fading. The woman was thanking someone and the thief was led away. I could not really distinguish their facial traits, as if I was watching a scene through a foggy window.
*****
After lunch at a fancy restaurant, I decided to head back to my apartment for a nap. As I lazily walked, something caught my attention, a blinding sparkling reflection caught my eye. It came from a young man standing on the edge of the bridge, his silver hair gleaming to the sunlight as he silently gazed at the river below. His ethereal beauty was definitely out of this world.
I stood frozen, for a second, watching him, tempted to brush the stray strands from his face, as the wind began to pick up. I resumed walking, but my mind lingered on his angelic and magical image, as if he was more than a stranger on a bridge. As I got closer, he began unbuttoning his shirt in a fluid and slow motion. The instant his eyes met mine, I quickly looked away and quickened my pace, to avoid any awkwardness.
What is he doing? Does he think he is allowed to strip like that? I thought, irritated. Men these days think that they can do whatever they please! But then, a counter thought crept in. Why should I care? I told myself, I could just walk away and have him out of my sight!
Until now, I had been at peace, not minding my surroundings. I had believed that my interference in people's lives had been insignificant. But now, my heart was fluttered uncomfortably at the sight of this indecent display.
Involuntarily, I turned back, unsure of why I done so. He climbed onto the bridge railing, staring at the river. The water wasn't deep, but the jagged rocks beneath the surface would definitely shatter his body if he fell.
The pedestrians strolled by, indifferent, as if the silvered-haired man was no more than a wax statue. If his dangerous position was not even worth a glance, his broad, well-muscled chest would have at least drawn attention. If no one acts within the next minutes, he will certainly jump.
Once again, a calm voice in my head whispered: You're very tired Mia. Go home, get a hot drink and relax. Weren't you planning to try that new skincare product today, remember?
Mechanically, I turned away and headed home, the weight of exhaustion pulling me forward. At that moment, a flock of sparrows flew past me, releasing a high-pitched call echoing in the air. Instinctively, I turned to see where they were headed. To my surprise, they were flying toward him.
A thought crossed my mind: What if they fly too close to him making him lose his balance? My heart skipped a beat. Witnessing such a horrid scene felt... so familiar. The nauseating scent of blood made my stomach churn. I could almost imagine the spray of crimson staining the river.
Despite my growing numbness, my body acted before my mind could catch up. Without thinking, I rushed toward him as fast as I could. To my astonishment, I watched in disbelief the sparrows passing through his body, as if he was made of smoke, not flesh.
No wonder, no one saw him! I thought. But how the heck am I able to?
I was only one meter away now, my breath catching in my throat. Confusion clouded my mind, as I struggled to comprehend what just happened. My presence startled him, and in that instant, time seemed to freeze. The world around us blurred, the river, the pedestrians, all of it faded away.
He turned his head slightly, his dull eyes locked in mine. I could not sense any will to live in him, only a deep overwhelming desire to escape. It was hypnotic yet shattered in a second.
His bare foot slipped from the edge.