[ IP ] Twilight

It only takes one breath. 
 
 The sun begins to cast its shadow across the awakening nightlife. Warm amber light passes through the clouds, in some areas soft and in others to bright to look at. Deep cool purple swells in the east signalling the coming darkness. Sharp wind bites your face as you stand on the rooftop. 
 
 You see blurry figures moving behind glaring glass in the apartments and offices below. A hundred thousand people prepare to begin their weeks end before your eyes. A young couple pays their fair from the warm backseat of a blue taxi on the corner. They step out into the early night air holding hands and begin their walk along the city street towards their favorite restaurant. 
 
 A man walks hurried through the park on Bay Str. His black leather shoes click on the red cobble bricks as he rushes to the subway. He ’ s a man of composer and does not run to make the train. The lampposts around him just hummed into life casting a faint yellow glow over the park. 
 
 A red construction crane remains in the way of traffic on Grenville Str a block ahead. The crew is long gone for the evening. The work on the roads never really ceases this time of the year. It is a constant struggle to maintain the asphalt in the Canadian clime. Many of the workers are waiting to catch a bus or train home to see their families. They stand in their gruff attire on the sidewalk being passed by young socialites just beginning their nights. 
 
 As the evening fog rolls in you catch sight of a single light behind a distant window at the universities east wing. You ponder what it could be; a professor staying late to review exams, a group of students struggling with tough course material, or a lonely janitor sweeping a floor before heading home. 
 
 Near the highest floor of the condo across from you an elderly couple sits on their patio by candlelight. Wrapped in hand knitted sweaters they gaze out over the city and reminisce of days gone by and they work they had done in them to earn them such a view. 
 
 A blast of wind rises from beneath you. Cold air shoots up into your coat and sends a chill through your body. You breathe deep as the shock and the same twilight air fills your lungs. You reflect inwards as you stare outwards. Each of the people below has a narrative of their own. Any one person of thousands could look skywards and see you there look down on them. What would they think of you? 
 
 You could easily be mistaken for a forlorn soul looking for a way out. That is what you assumed when you first that man atop this very building last year. He did in fact jump. He left this world with the simple act of crashing into it. With that one breath and that one thought you realise that things are not as bad as they seem. 
 
 They city is beautiful from up here. Everyone coming and going, and some even staying. Young and old alike call this city home the same as you. You exhale slowly and watch your white breath vanish into the night air. With a sure foot you step down. The sun is almost gone and for some the day is just beginning. You look up and close your eyes. The sounds of the city fill your ears and the smells faintly reach your nose. 
 
 You open your eyes and place your cool hands into your pocket. There is a man atop a building across the way. He is standing on the outside of the railing. The people in the blue glass building below are unaware of his presence. You think to yourself, “ That ’ s why I ’ m up here too isn ’ t it? ” 
 
 You can barely make out his scarf and coat tails flapping in the wind. You raise your hands to your mouth and yell as loud as you can the first thing that comes to mind. 
 
 “ It ’ s a beautiful night! ” 
 
 After a moment the man climbs back over the railing and pauses. 
 
 “ It is now! ” He calls back.
