life for the living

i've walked across that exact square of sidewalk countless times. now he was 3 floors up, staring down at that square in the open afternoon air.

i'd always move past the excited tourists in their neon "san francisco, ca" t-shirts, queued around the cable-car turnaround like a giant human question mark. thinking to myself why they didn't bother walking up a couple of blocks to the next stop and save 45 minutes of waiting. now they were all turned towards him on the ledge only in turquoise underwear. young and old couples, friends, families. one could hear the crowds' pleading from there - the urging, even laughing, but he doesnt.

i'd walk quickly past the diseased and deformed pigeons and panhandlers. he shuffles toward the edge, then back. leaning forward then back again.

my thoughts would be on that afternoon's worthless team meetings and client visits, maybe weekend plans. his thoughts are too much for him.

they have been for some time. i'd sit in ridiculous department morale meetings and so would he - maybe right in front of me. i always paid more attention to the dandruff peppering the shoulders of the person seated in front of me than what was actually happening in the meeting. i would've noticed that i would be paying attention that day. he always dressed sharply, so im told. we both took the same elevator and probably crossed paths by the copier or the coffee counter many times.

many of us heard a folklore tale and laughed it off as an easy blockbuster target. he heard the same tale and took it deeply to heart and mind. he quit to make the most of his remaining time.

i'd make it down the one block back to work and head to my team meeting to discuss how much ad space costs now. one could hear the sirens closing in from there, but i doubt he can. probably doesn't notice the city employee hurrying in through the entrance only about two dozen feet down.

my life went on like any other day - with plans, errands to do, optimism, a girlfriend, friends to see, nephews to eventually talk life and women with, supposed to rain this weekend, the giants should have a chance this year, all that.

he hears the employee reach the top floor just in time to discover the door is locked. and he steps off.



a friend of mine saw the scene and reiterated the adage that "life is for the living". sometimes i'd probly think that sounds a touch callous, but it served for a dose of optimistic reality. for a few reasons i think this has sort of haunted me from half a city away for a couple of days. i knew him hardly enough to be considered acquaintances but it's a ghostly, almost tangible eeriness.