00:08:33
Looking at his phone, he blinked, slowly closing and opening his eyes. Even seconds later, he still had the same posture, standing there like a statue.
Plop.
A single raindrop fell on the puddle, rippling the water as it slowly shattered the man's image. Soon after, more followed. Each splashed against the water. As he watched the rain fall into the puddle, his reflection disappeared, leaving only circles that ran into each other as they broke each other apart.
The man shifted his head towards the bright sky, watching the clouds above him. Small gaps in the sky peeked between the clouds. Then the stormy clouds entered, pushing the ocean above him further away.
As he gazed at the white clouds, a cloud that had a warmer tone appeared. Its orange and golden colors painted the entire sky, dwarfing all the others with its soft, rounded, and voluminous form. The light was so intense that he had to look away. Even without the sunrays in his eyes, that cloud's radiant light was leagues above the monitor he had in his room.
While he was looking at the golden cloud, a raindrop fell on his eye, blurring his left vision.
He blinked several times to clear it out. Then he pushed the power button briefly on his phone and put it back in his pocket. However, instead of the fabric brushing against his skin, the cold air enveloped him, and before he knew it, his phone was no longer in his hand, rapidly approaching the ground.
It slammed on the side of the cup, creaking the plastic open at the bottom of it. The rain, along with the coffee, spilled out through the cracks.
Every second, more had escaped.
That crunchy sound still ringing in his ears, he crouched down and picked up his phone.
Small shards sparked and dropped on the ground as he turned the screen towards his face. The entire bottom half was cracked and shattered, a few smaller lines reaching the top of the screen.
With his index finger, he lightly slid his skin across the broken screen, feeling the ragged cuts and the glossy texture on it. Moving his finger across, a slight stinging sensation entered the tip of his finger. He felt as though a lot of pressure was concentrated there. Some time later, the top layer of his skin began to separate, forming a thin, red line underneath. Not long after, a drop of his hot blood escaped, sliding down his finger, falling on the ground as it landed next to the cup. It mixed with the rain and the coffee.
His eyes narrowed.
He put his phone away, along with the dandelion stem, into his pocket.
The wet ground lit up from the golden sky, shining a light ray on the cup that had well-defined, sharp edges. The light effortlessly pierced through its dark texture, creating a sight he had never seen.
It was shining so brightly that the glossiness of the man's eyes reflected the golden light back from it.
He looked back at the cloud, seeing the glorious size of it as it took over the entire sky.
The orange glow and the golden light completely overtook the blue color of the sky, and where the man looked, he couldn't see anything of the ocean. His irises sparked with that light, just like the rest of his body and everything that was in front of him, leading up to the hill.
The trees accompanying the road swayed as the wind gently tapped their branches. Their pink leaves, along with the grassy meadow in stark contrast with the gray path the man was walking on, painted the hill in colors he couldn't even dream of.
Birds warbling filled the atmosphere of the hill.
Even though their melody graced his ears, he saw none of them, only distant sounds never meant for him, hiding behind colorful trees he'd never learned to appreciate.
He stood back up, shifting his attention to the other way.
The storm encapsulated the entire sky, painting his vision with something familiar.
The rain blended with the ground in the distance. Clouds flickered white, then vanished as they returned to gray. Another white flash appeared, then disappeared, only to reappear again. All that continued until the last cloud remained.
However, the clouds never disappear. No matter how much time had passed, they remained, getting darker with each moment.
He took a step forward.
Then another.
Each of his steps took him further from the golden light.
He gazed into the distance, watching the rain pouring down. Though, he could have just looked at nothing. Even if his eyes were open, that didn't mean he was trying to see things with them.
Must have been the reason for what happened next.
Crunch!
The man stopped. His eardrums are still hearing that sharp snapping sound as if it were a video recording he forgot to turn off.
Slowly shifting, he looked down.
Beneath his feet, a broken branch snapped in half. He bent down and put his bruised hand on it, raising it up from the ground as he placed both halves next to each other.
Looking at the broken branch, he remembered.
Some fragments of his memories flashed before him, though he saw nothing. Only a distant sensation ran through him. Still holding the two halves in his hand, he turned to look toward the hill.
He shifted his eyes back to the branch. Then at the ground.
The cup. Still crushed and damaged.
His eyes narrowed, almost reaching the lower part of his eyelids.
Coffee spilled through the cut. Every second of hesitation resulted in more being lost.
His hands twitched, shaking the order of the two branches in his hand, then brought them to his face, inspecting their state one last time.
For a couple of seconds, all he did was watch: the rain slowly dribbled down from one side to the other, the leaves on them dipping under the weight, the wind pulling them towards the storm, the rigid lines going along from top to bottom, and the scent of mud mixed with the fresh rain.
He took all that in.
Caressing his fingers across the harsh texture, occasionally being caught by the minor bumps on them, a sigh sounded. The branches were pulled further from him. Throwing them away, he swiftly brought his arm to his side and released his grip.
The branches fell behind him. He continued to walk where the cup was, no longer looking back at the storm.
He picked the cup up and turned it upward, preventing more from spilling out.
Coffee covered his hands. No longer hot, nor warm anymore.
With the cup in his hand, he inhaled, letting the fresh air enter his nostrils. Cold, though not as much as the rain.
Then, he stepped closer to the hill, no longer turning back.