“It’s easier to walk on water than to swim against the crowd” he says to no one, standing there at the rocky beach, where the waves crash with the mountains such that thunder claps and tears fall.
He looks around to no one. The people around him, they all seem oblivious to this thunderous roar and the rain of salt water. They move in hurdles and groups, talking in silence, with their feet gliding. They stare at him wide eyed, if he ever singled out one person to ask a question. Time ticks with every drop of salty rain, almost in sync with time.
The tears never stop falling from the sky and yet the people hunch themselves in their overcoats and glide even more. His failed attempts at walking and gliding are mocked by none .He just stands there, waiting, waiting to be shuffled or pushed .
Waiting with his feet glued to the sticky ground.