Stargazing

Bruce lay on his back looking up at the clear night sky. His eyes wandered over the points of tiny white in the darkness above looking for a familiar shape – the only shape up there that he knew. Eventually he spotted the curved handle and box-like bowl. It always felt good to find the Big Dipper. It reminded him that he still could if he ever needed to.

He shivered as a cool breeze flowed over his exposed arms and chest. He felt the tension in his skin build as goose bumps started to form. His foggy breath lingered in front of his face as he tried making mist rings. He quickly gave up. He was restless.

He just couldn’t get all of the thoughts careening around inside his head to settle and move to the edges. They were too much to deal with. He decided to try and clear his mind. He lay there trying to relax and not think about anything in particular. The hard thing about not thinking about anything, Bruce realized, is not thinking about not thinking about anything. Still, Bruce tried, time would pass quicker that way.

After a few minutes of little success Bruce closed his eyes and concentrated on the sounds around him instead. He ignored the low wail of sirens in the distance and the dripping of water off to his left, they reminded him of things he didn't want to think about anymore. Instead he found himself attracted to the sound of his open shirt flapping in the wind. It was somehow soothing.

It sounded to Bruce like some creature with a large set of wings was descending from the sky towards him. Maybe it was a giant eagle like the ones he saw in that really long movie that time or maybe it was one of those dinosaur birds winging into the city from its secret island home looking for dinner. It might even be an angel who’d drunk one too many and mistaken him for somebody else. Bruce imagined groups of Angels holding large mugs of beer dancing around crystal tables perched on fluffy white clouds. He didn't know that they actually drank wine.

Bruce's body started to vibrate. A deep rumbling flowed through his back and across his chest. A bright white light washed over his face and suddenly the clutter in his head and heart didn't matter anymore. Bruce smiled and the number five train to Liverpool arrived late that night.