The wind is the beholder of choice. All walks of life follow the path that takes one to the invisible truth, a truth as unseen as the wind itself.
Under the sun, the grand line of streets follows the narrow path one must take—a ride one must travel in the city. Very few are awakened in the time of cold and falling leaves of autumn.
It could be seen in the many lines of cars—red, black, blue, and white—like rows of wheat ready to fare the dime of oneself and take a ride. Many lay sleeping in the street, and many walk, few among the many and many among the few. Some watch the artists of the street, singing and dancing to the beats of drums and stone. Few sing for the few, yet all gather like a family to dine—for dinner and dessert.
Ash followed Aurora as they traveled the streets of New York like birds. They were quick, knowing the paths one must take to move around the busy streets. The daily scatter of petals made noise, and the sight of the two was fleeting, for their speed was too great.
The boy looked at the girl as they traversed the streets, wondering how he had come here and how much she had done to better him in the dull world he had lived in before. The more he followed her, the more he felt something. She was strange in the way she looked at the world, seeing everything as if it were made for love.
She looked at the darkness as if it were the path to light. She looked at dead trees with no hope as chances to be reborn. She looked at the flies, the bugs that eat the very dirt we lay down as a gift from God, for they live to better the world. She looked at the rats that burrow in homes, eating away the layers of foundations that man has built, seeing them only as creatures who had lost their homes to man.
She said, "If a man has brought destruction to himself, then he must pay the cost. We live in the very darkness we have built around ourselves, and we must know that we are the fault for our own madness and our own death."
The more Ash followed her, the less certain he felt. He began to question more of the world and its mysteries.
Ash was that of shadow as he followed Aurora through the grand city, where buildings rose high and fell low.