“Everything is just an illusion,” he said, smiling at me. The wind on a 16-story building was cold and strong that it almost blew me off my feet. He leaned against the railing and looked at the people below. I followed.
None of them could notice us and take even a short glance.
“They don’t care about the people around them, including us. Because we are not part of their world. They go on with their lives thinking that each day is different and new but the truth is, they just go around in circles. They are bound to do certain things, and discard those that they are not made for.”
I stared at him and he returned my gaze.
“You know what? I want to be a bird. I believe I can do it. If I won’t try to fly then I wouldn’t know, right?”
He stood on the railing, tiptoed. He closed his eyes and spread his arms.
He let the wind blew him away, and fell head first.
Now, people took notice of him. He has become a part of their illusion, something that is hard to forget. Everyone below paused. Mouths were open but there was no sound. Eyes stare blank, like machines that hang from a glitch.
I wish he really became a bird in his illusion.
But in mine, he was just a rotten egg who thought he became a chick.
An now his yolk is spilling on the streets.
featured photo: Artwork by Asano Inio