Even late in the night, the bridge was astir with cars honking at each other and people bustling around. He stood there, under a flickering lamp, with only a light jacket to protect him from the biting October wind. He took out a lighter and a cigarette from his front pocket. He lit his cigarette and took a long drag, exhaled slowly, and watched as the smoke just disappeared into thin air. He loved walking on this bridge. The wind, the sounds of the traffic and even the water underneath — something about it all made him feel like he was part of a bigger picture, a place where he controlled everything from the shadows.
He crossed the bridge and walked on familiar cobbled pathways, to a place he’d been meaning to go to, all night. The cemetery. He chose a grave at random and sat down on it. He closed his eyes and willed the body underneath to come back to life. For a few minutes, even the crickets fell quiet. Then came a hoarse mumble of someone who hadn’t used their voice in a long time, followed by the banging. The claustrophobia must’ve set in, he thought. He listened to all the wails and pleas of the resurrected being with morbid satisfaction. Aah! The power he held and the things he could use it for! He checked the time. Any minute now, he thought. There was only a little oxygen available in an airtight coffin. He couldn’t hear the person trying to gasp for breath in that tiny coffin, a few feet buried beneath the ground, but he could feel it in his bones. He chuckled as the person underneath banged against the coffin one last time. One last dying breath and the person was no more. He took a drag on his cigarette again. Oh, how he loved watching the smoke disappear!
Author: Dande Kaumudi