At dusk, lamp post flickers as I walk on the pathway of Central Park. Deserted on a rainy Tuesday, I hold on tight to my coat. I wanted to feel the breeze even if it sends a chilling sensation into my bones. Leaving my transparent umbrella, with a yellow handle beside the door steps of my warm apartment in 22th jump street, I started to regret it. It’s really raining hard now. Not too far from where I am, I saw a gargantuan tree that seems undisturbed by what is happening. Almost slipping due to my worn out boots , which a bought from a thrift store, settling under the tree after a run brought a heavy panting. I sat down, hugging my knees, trying to make sense of everything. The raindrops that seems unstoppable. The flickering lights that reminds me of a horror film. The uncertainty of what is to happen next. My forehead touches my knees. I feel so small, so cold.. yet my heart is steadily fasten between my lungs. “Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah…,” I started singing. Looking up ahead, I stood up. As the song rises in my heart, consuming my mind, the wind started to sing it’s own melody. Closing my eyes, I could hear it. When suddenly , branches started to fall from above. I stepped forward towards the pathway of Central Park once again. The rain had already stopped. The lamppost stood still. I continued walking as I sing.
*Image grabbed from Google.