After a whole night fighting with my haunted thoughts, I decided to go for a ride. The sun was still asleep. The moon was tired and the stars were shutting down themselves. The Silence before the dawn of day was screaming loudly.
I stopped in the middle of the deserted bridge. I shut down my bike’s engine and lit up my smoke.
I looked towards the rising sun, whose picture had drawn on the wet canvas of the river. I inhaled a puff of smoke and my sight fell upon the moving shadows, that were walking barefooted through the river. Those shadows were of the few villagers going to their boats, which were tied down beneath the bridge where I stood.
The view was so beautiful it seemed as if the sun had turned into a huge torch to show them the path. I turned around
and looked down at my feet which were covered in leather, standing on the cracked concrete.