Tuesday, October 23, 2007

A Sea of Faces in a Sea of Places

I was walking the crowded streets that reminded me of the nightlife near Georgetown in D.C., where I had been once, bar after bar pouring out young party goers onto the pavement.

I entered the first bar I came upon. It was filled with young twenty-somethings, a group of them sitting at a long, heavy wooden table set across the edge of the main room. The table was littered with glasses, some empty, some filled with beer or an undefinable mixed drink. Music was playing. A song with a heavy beat and a strong melody that was injecting a fervor into the room. Suddenly the power blinked off, and the music was gone. I recognized a number of familiar faces, but they rapidly faded and vanished as people filtered out of the building. I stared passively as a young blonde girl attempted to hook up her Ipod and restore the sound. She confessed she had no music on it.

I stepped outside and traveled down the street to another bar. I was looking for him. I was looking for somebody I knew. The next bar was filled with nameless faces and shortly after I entered, I was alone. I left the empty room and headed back into the ocean of strangers milling about the streets. I returned to the previous bar. Now there was a line at the door. The main room was filled with people, but silent. I found my way upstairs and whatever familiar faces I could catch sight of melted into the crowd and without warning, again, I was alone.

I walked outside and wandered a little further up the hill. I turned into a crowded alley with a long balcony set above me, the length of the buildings I was standing between. There were people pushing past me and I saw him leaning over the ledge gazing down into the crowd. I reached up and called his name. After briefly catching my eye, he moved back from the edge and faded out of view. My arm fell to my side and I stood still with my head to the sky, squinting, while the crowd rushed past me like a riptide. I paused, and then allowed the current of bodies to carry me back into the street, as crowded as I was empty.

1 comment:

WilliamHartz.com said...

Surrounded, yet alone. Perhaps the worst of tortures to ones soul.