Hiding

When it started to rain, I started to look for shelter. The moon was coming out and it lit the streets better than the streetlights themselves did. The tall buildings overwhelmed my view, walking by them through alleys and between old stone houses. There were people filling the sides of the streets, all laying down and looking up, wearing enormous robes and blank white theatre masks. No one moved as I stepped around them carefully. I knew they were all alive, I could feel the air being pulled away every few seconds in one deep harmonious breath. I passed through the darkest alley yet, under the awning of a shop that was gathering the rain like a person collects memories, and came to a harbour by the ocean. There were fishing boats anchored out from shore and long wooden docks with masked people laying on them. The walkway by the water was wide, with many holes in the ground opened just enough to show the blank mask of someone underneath looking up past me. Once I reached the end of the walkway, I stopped. Even though it still stretched as far as I could see, I knew this was the end because the last mask was beneath me. Its gaze was hollow, indifferent, as if it was angry and sad and happy and loud and quiet all at the same time. Curious, I leaned over and grabbed the mask with one hand, lifting it off as carefully as I had been stepping around them. I put the mask on my face and looked down at the person I had taken it from only to see that it was just another white mask. We stared at each other with a mutual indifference, sharing the rain that was only now beginning to relent. I laid down to watch the last few drops splash in my face, all the while feeling angry and sad and happy that I had missed it all.