Come nightfall I race past Venetian sailing boats, angling my body towards the Lido. I don’t want to run after work, but for vanity reasons alone I persist on doing so. Endless daydreams seep like the waves as I rise and fall down every beautiful crossing. A bridge for each year I am unable to match. All because someone captured my imagination during a particular moment in time.
Elderly couples in minx coats look upon me like I’m a different species. Dumbfounded at this scaling leaping figurine skipping over bridges by the sea. My journey is now complete and I’m walking through St Mark’s Square back towards my apartment with sweat heaving over my chest.
Back home I switch on the heating, shower and prepare something to eat and still don’t feel complete. I keep on eating until I feel uncomfortable. It’s getting late now. I have no idea why I do this. This blocking urge to feel nothing and full simultaneously.