Dark waters ripple beneath the bridge and bounce the morning light back into my eyes. I know the water is cold and the current runs too swiftly to swim against. Yet I feel strangely compelled to plunge into it, to let its force carry me away to whatever shore chance make take me. I grip the railing. My knuckles turn white. I want to vault into the crisp winter morning and yet I trudge on like the hollow men. The city smokes on the other side of the river and I am resigned to inhaling its poison. My only reward, fine wine, gorgeous food and beautiful women.
Gray Dourman
www.magichelix.com
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