Razen
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Like a Rainbow in the Dark, Wanderlust and Lost
By Razen
The times in the city were rough this time of the year as the snow begins to rest heavily on everyone's metaphoric shoulders. It was in the middle of the night, and the moon was a waxing gibbous tonight. I had little on me but a ragged coat that had been worn by seven men before me and pants that were not much better off. My snow shoes had holes in the toes and the heel, and my socks were more of holes than fabric. I had a flashlight that had batteries that were nearly dead, and the light it produced seemed fractured and fidgety. My attire and the state of the world around me was perhaps the greatest analogy of my own being, yet its subtlety would cause many observant eyes to miss its splendor. I had no idea why I thought of such things when there were more important things to think of, but that is perhaps why I was in this unfavorable situation that I have found myself in. The metaphors of transcendentalists and their like are great, but as the idiom goes, "It doesn't put food on the table."
My stomach grumbled, growled, and seemed to be rolling thunder. I wouldn't be able to tell you when I last ate; I rarely thought about eating or drinking. The worldly necessities never seemed to interest my mind, yet they needed to for my own self-preservation. This was my internal conundrum, my eternal conflict like the story books tell of the battles between good and evil. In this case, I did not know which side was good, and I did not know which side was evil. I needed to focus though as it had been too long since I had last eaten to sit lost and wanderlust in thought.
With my thoughts restrained as if put on a leash, I began to observe my surroundings for a potential meal. The heavy snow probably has ruined most of the food in the city's many dumpsters, and I doubted that any of the restaurants would show their kindness tonight in this storm from hell frozen over. A street light above me had been shattered, and I suspected that it had been like that for at least a week. My suspicion had no logical foundation, but I fancied my hypotheses.
Once more, I looked around me. There was a set of houses off in the distance, or were those apartments? The city had confused me so. There were so many names for the same thing that I thought that they were all separate entities or perhaps even foreign languages. That was a different matter, an irrelevant matter, and it was distracting me from the important part: Both of them have food. Yes, yes, that was the answer to my furious stomach who was bringing me close to the brink of starvation, or was it the other way around? My hunger must be making me delusional; I've heard it can do that.
I stumbled or shuffled to my destination, to the line of houses or apartments that had what I needed in plenty, in excess. They didn't need it as much as I needed it, right? I don't know why I would need to convince myself that my actions aren't morally deplorable when they are necessary to survive; I think they are called necessary evils. It was difficult to think without food to sustain the thoughts. Despite that, I had managed to reach the door to my urban savior; I had no care for how bizarre the thought of an urban citizen being a godly figure must have been to any sane person. I wasn't sane, not during this time at least.
The door to this haven seemed so peculiar yet also mundane. The knob was made of brass or bronze; I didn't know the difference between the two. The wood of the door was painted, but I couldn't tell what color. Before I checked the keyhole, I looked back to see if I had caught anyone's attention. There were a few shadows of men, but they weren't facing towards or away from me. I don't think that anyone noticed my existence, but that was just a thought I fancied like so many of my speculations.
I peered into the keyhole. I found a family in a living room, but I thought that all rooms were living rooms in some sense. They seemed jovial and happy, but that might have been normal pleasantness to those who were not starving. They looked like they were laughing, but I couldn't hear what they were laughing about. It isn't like I would understand it anyways; there was nothing funny in my life. As I peered deeper, I had seen a rainbow shining from a box. This had left me confused as I pondered how a box was able to produce light like the Sun.
This rainbow had piqued my interest as it seemed like everything did. I wondered what a rainbow in this pitch black, this dark, would represent. It could represent me like my clothes, like the frozen, bitter world surrounding me. Would it be lost yet ever searching for the light? I had to shake my head to free my thoughts before my stomach made my presence known. I had fumbled out a hairpin that I had turned into a lockpick, and I tried my hand at the keyhole to get through the door with some sense of stealth.
The hairpin twisted and turned until it finally made a click; the lock was bested. I slowly opened the door, and it did not creak to my fortune. I slowly crept to the kitchen or wherever it was that food was kept; names were unimportant at this point. I continued to hear their laughter, and it seemed to get to me in my weak-minded state. I could hear the family now, but their words made no sense to my dazed mind. I guessed based on what I had heard that the magical box that they had wasn't showing a rainbow anymore, and I had gathered that this box was known as a T.V.. I don't know what the initials stand for. It might have meant tele-something. Tele-vaunt? Tele-valor? I had no idea.
It was then that lightning struck; I must not have been paying attention to the clouds outside as there was a thunderstorm starting to rage. The family's laughter stopped. I realized that this had just made my burglary attempt much harder than it could have been. I had found a food closet or something of that nature to hide in until the family went to bed, and I held myself firmly and stiffly to avoid making noise. I could have some relief in knowing that my shadow would not be visible through the food closet's doors.
The family's children seemed to be scared; I think that lightning and thunder do that to people as they frighten me. It was late already, so I was sure that it wouldn't be long before the family went to sleep. I was right to my fortune. The pitter-patter of walking seemed to come to a stop, and the house was deathly silent before another bolt of lightning struck down nearby. I realized that the thunder would be my savior now as it could cover the noises I make. Slowly, I began to gather the family's easily consumable food during each thunderclap in my ragged jacket.
With time, the pockets were overfilled, and my hands seemed like they could barely contain much. I was going to have to get used to the idea of doing this as I won't be able to get much food from any of these burglaries, not with this ragged jacket, not with these two hands. The thunder sounded twice more. I exited the food closet with the first, and I left the unfortunate family's house with the second.
The waxing gibbous moon had shined down on me once more, and I looked at my shadow, a reflection of myself in an abstract way. I was but a shadow of myself at this point after all, yet I had found something present in the darkness of my shadow, a rainbow. I was a rainbow in the dark, wanderlust and lost.
< Message edited by Razen -- 6/19/2014 5:17:54 >
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