There’s a place. Peaceful. Quiet. The bustle of the city avoids this place. The East River makes no sound as it conveys water to the sea. The wind sings as it pass through channels of buildings behind. The world is at bay.
Alex sits in place. The torments of his life are somewhere else. The cold March air keeps others away too. Solitude is hard to keep once it’s found.
His mind flashes pieces of what brought him here. The voices raised. The feeling of being lost. A body without a real place. … This is his place. It’s the only place.
Peace enters his mind. His heart is too wounded for that. It’s beating, but labored in its rhythm. The headache is fading fast. The tightness in the chest from screaming is almost gone. The blood pressure slowly loosening it’s grip.
In a moment things fade. Vision goes dark. His place brings him that final peace.
Written as part of a challenge called Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Details can be found at https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com