La Foule

Genre: Fiction
Inspiration: Dream

Exhiliration. Like when you come out from backstage after a great show. I join the crowd going down the stairs. Everyone is all smiles and I cannot keep it in. The happiness, the ecstasy overflows. Met with laughter, pats on the back, I barely stop to catch up with everyone. Thousands of familiar faces, but I am too high, too fast, too happy to stop. Then I see a face, a face I've been searching for for so long. But like a river running downhill I cannot help but pass it by. Yet there it is again. And again. Wanting to be noticed. Not wanting to give up, on me. He smiles, and I smile back. I give him a playful hit on the shoulder, like I always wanted to. He joins me in our plight against the crowd. Going up and down the stairs. He holds my hands and asks: "Would you do life all over again with me?" He looks so handsome in his turqoise shirt. "Of course I would." The exhiliration sweeps us up again, going through the crowd. Up the stairs again. Faces are now blurs of intense colour that swirl around us mercilessly. Our fingers slip and we are again separate. But like him, I refuse to give up. I fight the crowd to where we were only moments ago. But he is'nt there anymore. I look around and the colours begin to fade. I am alone.