Torrents

A man sits upon the railing of a bridge, looking down into the water some eight metres below. The navy torrent moves with great force carrying branches, scrub and parts of the eroding bank. It swirls with a seemingly insatiable rage. A flash of lightning jags through the sky illuminating the dark clouds that blanket the valley. As the gentle rain begins to set in, a chill runs through the air, unusually cold for the time of year. The man rises from his seating, yet continues to gaze at the body of water snaking through the old riverbed. Memories fill the man's head of a life lived long ago. A family awaits him in a small hut, the glow of the fire within the cabin visible for miles. He remembers the touch of intimacy and how his heart had sung with those children in his arms. Now he had nothing. Whispering ghosts of a forgotten past. As the river became ever more violate he wondered if he would ever have the courage or conviction to jump. To join his family once more and be rid of his retched form. Sometimes there is not always a reason to live. Minutes pass, and still he is racked with an unshakable cowardice. Perhaps he will always be alone.