It’s 4.49AM.
Tomorrow will rain. We’re on top of ZhuJiang Bridge. We’re so out of breath; sweat is running down our necks and dotting our matching blue shirts azure. The paper bags we’reholding swing gently as we cough out our last giggles. We’re ready, camera in hand poised like a great-sword atop our humble selfie-stick. We’re here to slay the sun. When it creeps across the wavering skyscrapers in the horizon, we’ll strike. This moment, if it ever ends, will be written in camera memories and our wings that smell of yesterday’s motor oil and the morning.
It’s 4.49AM.
Leave a Reply