Feb 05 2024


Published by at 9:13 pm under Stories,Writing

You look out of your window on the seventeenth floor. It’s a cold, freezing night. The neon lights of the city below only add to the icy feeling. Heavy wind is shaking the building from the outside and singing like a wailing woman in the walls.

Your notebook is playing Cycles by Armstrong on loop. Its display is the only source of light in the room. The mix of Cyberpunk and Metal makes the perfect soundtrack for your current view over the metropolis. And your thoughts.

You know why you really had come here. No need to tell yourself some story.

You take a sip from your tumbler. Macallan Highland Single Malt. The best the bar downstairs had to offer was just good enough. You wanted to remember. You needed something worthy of the moment.

You close your eyes.


Not the darkness from the now, but from the moment of goodbye.

Your eyes were closed then, too.

You held her tight.

Your lips found her cheek in the darkness.

The softest kiss that was possible in the moment.

You did not want to let go. But time is never on your side.

Her beautiful, friendly, gentle face.

The shining light in her eyes.

Her wonderful smile, effortlessly bypassing all your defenses.

Only she knows how to always reach through to your core, your soul.

You feel that you’re melting inside.

She waves at you one last time.

Then she disappears into the city night.

You open your eyes again. Here, in the now. You feel the pain of the truth.

The Banshee is wailing louder now, stronger, accompanied by freezing rain hammering on your window.

You imagine her face over the skyline.

A single tear leaves your eye, rolls down your skin.

The city blurs away.

Armstrong’s fast and heavy guitar riff blasts through the room.

This stormy darkness won’t be over soon.

You take another sip.

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