It occurs to him once he gets off the train at the Mog Hill station that coming here is a mistake -- too many people who know him, probably. But the train's already left and his feet are taking him in the opposite direction, anyway, like if he holds still for so long something is going to break. Like momentum can save him.
He finds a park, a little bit of greenery, and it's not natural but it's not the ubiquitous brown and grey of the man-made buildings that make up most of the city, so it's good enough. He has to sit because he's so damn tired, so he picks a bench that's close enough to a little playground that he can hear the kids screaming and laughing but not so close that he's some creepy strange guy sitting around staring at strangers' kids. He just needs to hear them, to have that reminder --
Of what? Because all he can think of is a little girl he failed to save.
He puts his head in his hands, breathes in deeply, and then slowly raises his head again, trying to focus on what is good about this. What is good: trees older than the city itself, new flowers blooming shyly in the early spring, children who don't yet know how bad it can get.
He used to be one of them. That's what he lost. He doesn't know anymore how to go back there.
A ghost sits down on the bench next to him and he doesn't even have the energy to panic about it, just watches her watching the children. Her face is familiar, but neither of them speaks. He wonders if she's really there -- if he's the only one who can see her.
mog hill.
He finds a park, a little bit of greenery, and it's not natural but it's not the ubiquitous brown and grey of the man-made buildings that make up most of the city, so it's good enough. He has to sit because he's so damn tired, so he picks a bench that's close enough to a little playground that he can hear the kids screaming and laughing but not so close that he's some creepy strange guy sitting around staring at strangers' kids. He just needs to hear them, to have that reminder --
Of what? Because all he can think of is a little girl he failed to save.
He puts his head in his hands, breathes in deeply, and then slowly raises his head again, trying to focus on what is good about this. What is good: trees older than the city itself, new flowers blooming shyly in the early spring, children who don't yet know how bad it can get.
He used to be one of them. That's what he lost. He doesn't know anymore how to go back there.
A ghost sits down on the bench next to him and he doesn't even have the energy to panic about it, just watches her watching the children. Her face is familiar, but neither of them speaks. He wonders if she's really there -- if he's the only one who can see her.