Silhouetted

2.4 In a City That Never Was

I

The rain is still falling behind the glass. Buildings and street lights blazed lazily in the fog. The city is still crowded, sometimes I feel this is a strange city. Because the night the atmosphere even more crowded.

From my sitting position I could see the highway down there. Apparently this building is too tall to observe the pedestrians. But I'm sure those down there are partly waddled, or in rain suits. While some run or shelter.

While the woman beside me was still pensive. There may be one side of my story that affects it, or even none at all. But I shouldn't care, 'cause isn't it my job to just tell stories? I rarely find people who want to tell me, everyone in this city moves really fast, in a suit of sorts, with all kinds of interests, with all sorts of rhythms. With the same breath. Breath money. Breath power. Lustrous breath. Dead breath.

So I don't know exactly how this woman feels. Maybe he also felt strange to hear someone telling a story. What else can I do now?

Indeed on my desk the pile of files is getting higher. Even now that my entire desk was full of tall piles of files, I guess no one could look at us both from behind the table, unless that person turned to the back of the table.

That's why we're not disturbed. To this day, no one has rebuked us because we only look at the rain and the sky from behind a glass wall instead of work. I looked at him, he looked at me too

“What's up?”

“It's okay. I was just thinking, why are we just sitting quietly while everyone else is working?”

“You asked me?”

“Ya.”

“Do I need to answer?”

I was silent for a moment, confused to answer

“Yes, it's up to you!”

“Do my answers have any significance for you?”

I went back to being silent, indeed he would answer or not it was up to him and had no effect on me. Then I heard him mutter

“Why in this world many questions?”

I turned to “Ngg, you asked me?”

“Do my answers have any significance for you?”

“Maybe!”

Well you! Now I have to answer it while I still have a lot of questions for him. After all my story is not finished yet and it seems like this woman will still listen faithfully.

While I sneered I heard Norah Jones's voice bringing the final notes of “Come Away With Me.” I knew this song was 3 minutes 18 seconds long, then followed by “Don’ Know Why.” whose length is 3 minutes 6 seconds. I don't know where that sound came from. Maybe from a friend's computer, maybe from behind the wall of the next room, maybe also from inside the heart.

The sound just came. Makes me feel romantic. Before this woman spoke to me

“You heard this song?”

I nodded “Iya, why?”

“You like?”

“Like, you?”

“Lumayan, but I think more about the title.”

“Why with the title?” sometimes I wonder what this woman is thinking.

“What question did Norah Jones answer with that title?”

“Maybe about love?”

“Maybe, I myself did not memorize the verse.”

He sipped the coffee he did not know when he made, smoke came out of the glass. Hover for a moment before it disappears. I looked at the smoke, like I was looking at a question.

“You want to continue the story?”

I nodded