streetlights twist from orbs to lines, streaking through the downpour. shadows cast upon the sidewalk, dance before my weary eyes, drifting with the song of the sky. the bench supporting my slouched frame continues to creak and howl, gusts strike through the air, shifting the once secure bolts below, i just want to go home. yet here i remain, bolted in place wooden seating begins to consume. the thought of escape dwindles, metal winding around my arm. securing my end, the bench closes in.