unlimited

The breath of the city was warm and clammy. Though eye of the sky hung low and the streets were dark from the damp of the afternoon's drizzle, the breeze that whistled about me was humid. My bike creaked as I pedalled past the boxes of suburbia.

It was meant to be an escape from headaches, real and imaginary, into the coolness of the evening's embrace. Nevertheless less, like a persistent of cloud of flies on a summer day still my woes followed me whither I went.

Then I found the darker paths, above which its stoic custodians intertwined their leafy fingers so tightly you could not tell where one begun and another ended. Here, in the shadows, there was respite from the heat of the world around. Here, in my solitude, there was the peace I sought.