The long grass caught in Alex's spokes, ripped, and was left behind in the wind. Through stuffed nose and itchy eyes he saw the landscape around him, but those didn't stop it from being clear. Sunlight outlined the fields along the road in a golden haze, while the bike sped past them. High above, the sounds of birds competing with roosters for the morning song, no other noise to adding to the mass. Pollen drifting on the wind went up until it was lost in the sky, but the faint hint of damp spring air remained even when motionless. Alex's eyes were off the road, not worrying about cars as the chance was small, watching the trees in the distance crawl past as the close fields sped.
Turning off the road -
Leaving a trail of light green grass behind him, Alex rode over the field towards the lone tree, stopping just short and getting off his bike. Leaning it against the tree carefully, he took a camera out of his bag and caught the tree in frame. It's inkblot leaves were outlined in the sun, almost translucent, and the segmented bark cast shadows on itself. Roots shoved themselves out of the ground at odd angles like angels trying to escape, brought down by grass. Knots decorated the trunk, one carved by lovers wishing to trap their passion in time and not relation. Alex took all this in with the click of a lens, and then taking his bike up, began to bike away, taking pictures of the landscape as he passed by. Stopping at the road, he lifted his bike over the ditch and put away the camera. Getting on, he continued down the road, swaying back and forth along the lanes. The sunlight bounced off his pale skin, let in through his smile.
*
Tall buildings frozen in their climb towered above the city streets. Around passing people's feet, pockets of snow were seeking out places of refuge, pushed up against the buildings as if they were trying to reach that sanctuary just out of reach. Alex was looking out the window of his one-room apartment while a female voice lectured him from behind.
“Why is your room so messy? You seem to miss enough school, so you should use that time for something productive. Your father is paying enough to send you here, isn't he? Isn't that worth your time...”
The voice trailed off in a coughing fit, and Alex opened his book and began sketching a portrait of the cityscape before him, aged and broken. The streets were barren, with cars piled up at random intersections. No living thing could be scene except for a lone pigeon on top of a sky scraper. In the distance, the sea was black except for the white waves crashing.
Closing his book, Alex turned to see that the woman had left.
“When was the last time you were out of the city?”
Alex glanced up, surprised by the question.
“I don't live in the city,” said Alex, turning around in his bed to face the other way.
“Alex, don't be stupid, of course you do. You've been here for two years, isn't it time to unpack?”
“Everything I need is unpacked.” Alex said to the pillow, ignoring the blonde woman. Looking out the window, he saw a pigeon land on his window sill and sit for a moment, pecking at the birdseed that lay there. It bobbed it's head up and down with precision, each time coming up with a single seed and swallowing before going down again. It was missing one leg, and could only hop as traveled the sill, moving the joint every once in awhile as if to put weight on some ethereal limb. Having found all the birdseed, the pigeon flew off.
“Can you leave those birds alone? They're filthy. Are you listening?”
Looking at the birds, Alex had stopped listening to the muffled speech. However, the sound of coughing made him turn around.
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