Noir Metaphor
I drive through the city, the heat of day still lingering long after sunset. A thousand nights in this town and not a single gust of fresh wind to ease my mood… Sure as hell feels like I’ve been here for decades, but it’s not about time as in days, months or years. This town made me old at heart.
I tread on empty streets, dodging old memories, trying not to look back… No use. They are all over me. The traffic lights are fireflies from hell, telling me to stop, to park and do my last dance with them. I pay no attention.
I drive by the small apartment building where I used to live with my wife. The light is on, but I know it isn’t she who lives in there these days. We used to fight because I was so eager to leave and see the world, like some idealistic life-hungry teenager. She’d call me selfish. I’d call her paranoid. Young people.
Perhaps we were too right about each other. She wanted kids and a house with a white fence, but the American dream has always appeared to me as having something essentially wrong about it. Lately I’ve been asking myself if I ever should become a father at all. If that happens, lil’ Johnny better grow up to be unlike his old man. Which he undoubtedly will – kids are all about disappointing their parents, after all.