Myriad Abstraction

'Hello, clouds.' I thought to myself. It was another yesterday. Something in my chest was aching. It was as if my heart was breaking. I have lived this day a hundred times before; no matter where I go, it seems as though fragments of what is now a memory follow me in whichever direction I take. As the thunder continued its loud heartbeats, After my long stroll, a small group of three people were waiting at the end of the path, next to a lamp post.

The light was flickering, and crickets began chirping. As I got closer, the light flickered more, and the chirping grew louder. Closer, everything seemed to have gradually increased with each step. Finally, everything ceased as though time had frozen. I walked in the cold air towards them, waiting at the bus stop. Blue hazes of what couldn't be distinguished too suddenly were often the sight of the partially clouded sky early in the morning. The warmth of my breath took physical form with just one blow underneath the weeping sky.

I stood underneath my black umbrella, watching the droplets scatter. While I waited, each lightning strike grew larger- as if it were desperate to break the atmosphere into pieces like an unfinished puzzle. Once I caught sight of the transit, I moved my umbrella in front of me to block the impact of the water splashing from the vehicle, then closed it before stepping through the open doors.

One way, I told the driver, to which he replied, Two Dollars. Then, I headed towards the back window seat and did forty winks. My sad eyes opened. And before I knew it, my surroundings changed. I could have sworn just now I was elsewhere. Or could it have been a dream? Reality became shades of black and white. Looking around, I was in what appeared to be a classroom, although unfamiliar to me, messily filled with papers and pencils, disorganized desks, chairs, and people I had never met before whose faces seemed as though their feelings had faded over time. Strangely, there were no doors or air vents, just a column of large windows along one side as each glowing speck of dust shone through the crooked branches and a chalkboard on the other.

Sounds of distant rumbling and a steady chugging grabbed my attention. There was whistling like a forlorn call. Inverting my eyes to the window on my left, I couldn't see the ground below. A train was passing by. I noticed my reflection in the glass. And then, my grandfather's ghost. I gasped. Looking back, no one was beside me. One of the individuals in the room came forward suddenly, and it felt as if I had met this person before.

Upon returning my attention to the window, I raised my left hand, attempting to touch the windowpane. As I moved my hand closer, it suddenly passed through the glass. Nothing was felt at my fingertips, as though it were hollow or if I was non-existent. I grasped the nearest person's arm and moved them closer to show what was there. But they did not reappear in the glass either. A grin appeared on her face as she began to cry. I kept looking back and forth from the window, aimlessly searching. Visual impressions began unfolding within it.

What I had seen beyond the looking glass was a reflection of a man holding hands with a woman beside a hospital bed, whose stomach was largely well-rounded. The scene eventually faded, transitioning to another scenario. Their facial expressions were now characterized by furrowing brows of disapproval. As the phenomenon finished unfolding itself, the girl next to me bit her lip, grabbed onto the hinges of the window, and moved her entire body out of the building.

However, her body vanished into thin air. Instead of falling out of the building, she materialized into the looking glass and became a reflection of herself. She was transformed into a transparent embodiment - now embracing the men and women we had seen before. Before my own dark eyes, they were no longer present. The images had faded once more. I had an unsettling feeling; pressure was building on my shoulders.

I impulsively continue desperately dragging other people with me to confirm my perception. Each one did the same as the other, climbing onto the window ledge and floating away into nothingness. And with each one that entered, different scenes played out. In the end, only I remained in the room. They each saw what was dear to them beyond the window pane. In my head, I thought, maybe they were lingering spirits who no longer felt burdened. Perhaps it was maybe a gateway to someplace desired in our hearts.

Finally, I reached for the window once more. However, when I moved my hand towards it, the palm of my hand pressed against the solid glass. To my surprise, I felt its cold touch. So I clenched my fists and began banging. I repeatedly tried hitting my hands against the solid glass, but nothing had happened. The feeling in my hands became numb as if needles were being jabbed deep into my flesh; chills ran up and down my spine. I held my hands close to my heart. Then, the building started to shake. An unnatural large of crows were coming my way, crashing into and breaking all the windows, quickly filling the room. The whole room tilted as if the building itself leaned back. Everything was in the air. I imagined half of the building broke off, and I was falling with it.

I cupped my hands to cover my eyes as the tears continued to seep down my pale cheeks in silence. A burning sensation ran down my neck as sweat slid down where my goosebumps had resided. My surroundings have changed once more. I have returned to the bus seat. Soreness overcame me, and when I removed my hands from my face, I felt the caress of a slight breeze at the first glimpse of the world. The window was open.