Goodbye

Goodbye, small plane with your message. Small you are not, I can tell; the distance warps your strength and complexity. Goodbye, small plane! May your message reach someone whose message it was supposed to reach.

Goodbye, slice of sky. There is plenty of you outdoors, but inside here, you are the day light that blinds cannot cover. Your symmetry is elegant. The bricks you light up frame you like the grandeur art piece that you are. High above the fan you shall remain, out of reach but never out of sight. Goodbye, slice of sky! May the future café patrons that are looking around and upwards while they wait in the crowded space for their order find you. Their moment of discovery awaits them. Goodbye, too, my own moment of discovery.

May their eyes adjust in time to admire your beauty.

As I turn the corner to leave the restroom, my eyes spill over the lit up floor. This floor belongs to the entrance juxtaposed with the exit sign, and this moment of sudden light and clarity alerts me: this is the entrance, yes of course, yet this is also the way to go.

I hope this exit is different, I tell myself, as I take a phone picture of the floor. I hope the sunlight that pours, which is a sight to behold, is symbolic of the clarity and beauty that awaits me on my choice to go.

On the second picture I snap, a random man catches me in the middle of my act. His eye contact is stern, and out of politeness, I quickly put my phone away. What a weirdo he must think I am, -

I tell myself.