No Stomach for Depths

I stood there on the top of the building, looking at the face in front of me that was scanning mine for answers. I was looking past their head and over their shoulder at the city that was going on with their business behind us, all while this happened. I did not know what was going to happen next or what tomorrow was going to be like. But, I felt trapped in a bubble that I couldn’t even call my own. I was trapped in someone else’s bubble. I heard voices and cars around us, something they clearly did not, or at least pretended not to hear as they stood in front of me continuing to wait for words to come out of my mouth.

I was warm, my palms were sweating and my face was red. The person standing in front of me suddenly became a crowd of people, and inches away from me appeared a podium and a microphone. It was my time to let it all out for everyone to hear, to make my impression. The audience’s faces showed they were hungry. The snarling, gnashing of the teeth led me to believe they've been long deprived. But no words came out, and my moments were passing. I choked. I couldn’t say what I wanted to say, or wasn’t even sure of what I wanted to say. The crowd that had been looking up at me was gone, and looking around I stood alone with solely the company of my own silence and I didn’t know whether to cry or to be relieved.