The Rifts in Time

I walk alone through a desolate city,

carrying a heap of time no one can see.

I gaze out the window of a subway car.

That fleeting moment rushing past is stuffed with emptiness,

stuffed with the eyes of strangers,

stuffed with indifferent crowds.

I decide to let my memories stop between these two stations.

I have to find a gap where time can be touched,

and let time and memory, those bitter enemies, crash into each other and shatter.

I know you've also lit a cigarette in the dead of night,

listening through the smoke to the echoes coming from outside the window.

This novel and its characters are entirely fictional. Any resemblance is purely coincidental. Do not imitate.