Ambiguity

Today I saw a fight. I normally just leave it. How can I stop that sort of thing? But today was different. Today I struck him. I think I killed him.

I had just been carrying out my day as per usual, sort of drifting from one place to the next. It was unusually  cold for this time of year, there was a chill in the air that pervaded the bones of the people busy in the streets. They looked gloomy, completely oblivious to the world around them. Coats done up tight, hoods up, umbrellas out. Just my very presence seemed to make people morose, and then when I go, they seem so much happier. I hate it. Not everyone’s like that, but I know most are. They see one glimpse of me and think to themselves how they need to hurry and get away from me as soon as possible. I can't help who I am. I just bring them down.

It was one of these low points when I saw the fight, I thought to myself how I let everything just pass me by. I couldn't stand it any longer.

The day had started off so well too. Well, the night, I love astrology. I can watch the stars for hours on end, naming the different constellations and galaxies. It's so inspiring that there's so much out there, and not just space; I think it's important to appreciate things like that. The stars are not the only reason I love the night, it's the moon. She's so beautiful. Though I'm so insignificant compared to her, she's so powerful.

I floated my way towards the other side of town, and that's when I saw the fight. It was between a young female and this guy. A guy with coffee in hand, briefcase in the other, phone attached to the side of his neck. He was too preoccupied with his work, the meetings, his deadlines, his life. He hadn't noticed the vulnerable young girl sitting there on worn blankets, arms outstretched for spare change.

He tripped, he fell. Hot coffee splattered on cold concrete.

I knew he was angry. It was so electric. It practically sparked in the air around him. The young girl, vulnerable as she was, had been toughened by the streets. She yells at him. He yells back. Spit settles on her face. I knew there'd be a fight. I've people watched all my life now. You just know. He goes to hit her, but he's distracted by me, trying to cool things down.

It doesn't work. He's hitting, punching, smacking. Her tears are being drowned out by the rumble of thunder. I'm getting angrier, I need to do something. The man carries on, relentless, unforgiving. Why isn't he stopping?

I strike him. It's the first time I've made lightning.

I think I killed him.