From Esther Chilton’s blog: Writing prompt – Cities: One of my favourite cities is Rome. I’ll never forget the way the Colosseum took my breath away as I stood in the middle, the sights and sounds of the years before playing out before me. What cities have you been to? What special memories do they hold? Perhaps a city could be the backdrop for a story or poem.
Life And Death In The City – by Hugh W. Roberts
From the highest building, the city landscape held him in its thrall. His fist clenched, while his other arm stretched out, his eyes roamed from side to side, taking in the buildings, green spaces, transport, and every aspect of the city he adored. But the people? They were a different story.
From the moment he stepped foot in the city, a profound bond was formed. Every street, corner, and building became a part of him, intertwining with his very essence. For three glorious years, he thrived as a quintessential city man, his love for the city growing deeper with each passing day. But when he lost his job, a seismic shift occurred in his world. The concept of change was foreign to him, but the city, his beloved, seemed to be craving it, or so he thought.
As he gazed at the bustling, unfriendly crowds flowing into the city hall below, where he once worked, he realised that the city desperately needed a nucleus of change.
Eighteen minutes later, he found himself with his back turned only a few steps away from the imposing doors of city hall. He stood there, gazing up at the place he had been earlier, his mind a tempest of thoughts, each one questioning why he had even considered such a drastic step as jumping. The struggle within him was not just a storm, but a hurricane, his heart and mind locked in a fierce battle.
People tutted and gave him dirty looks as he blocked their path. The smell of their body odour hit his nostrils, making him feel sick.
‘Always in a rush! Why are these unclean city people always in a rush?’ he asked himself.
“Get out of the f-ing way,” somebody shouted at him as they pushed by him. “Idiot!”
“Idiot? Me?” he bellowed, his voice brimming with a potent blend of defiance and uncertainty. ‘Not me.’ he assured himself. ‘For I’m the one who can spark the change this city so desperately craves. It doesn’t deserve people like you.’
Minutes later, inside city hall, the first change to the city occurred.
“I’VE COME HERE TO SAVE YOU!” he screamed. Moments later, he pushed the trigger he’d held in his clenched hand, something he’d planned meticulously until he’d found himself looking down from the top of that building. As the almighty bang of the bombs went off, a sound reverberated through the halls, symbolising the start of a new era for the city. Without his action, it would never have survived.
Written for Esther Chilton’s writing prompt – Cities.
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