I was witness to the ebb and flow of water. A stream of power etching out a pathway of its own. The hot cement underneath acting as the water's feet. Propelling it further. The head of the downward flow, as if it had a thousand eyes, peering out and watching for the best path. Bobbing to and fro, swinging wildly left and right. Always faster than the human eye can catch. Parts of leaves becoming riders of the wave. The sun glints off the water's surface and my eyes sparkle with a newness of faith. Faith in the strength of quick movement. Like fast blood running through my veins. My heart beats slightly faster.
Some water breaks away from the main flow and branches out to find its own destination. As if it were yearning for the journey. Knowing that the unknown was never secret, but rather a part of the water. As soon as the sewer is reached, the flow subtly slows. The radical speed pacing itself now, down to a rhythmic heartbeat. The water created riverbanks, no actual walls to stop the water from spilling over all of the cement. Bubble-like and hovering, its edges maintain a border for this new-born flood. Now it stops my heart. The water's slowness no longer stoking the burning fire in my chest. I am an ember. Waiting for someone to come along and nourish my flame. Waiting for the coming tide to take me somewhere new.