Tell Me How You Feel [Dusk/Zenaki]

The night called to him in all the mundane hums it always had. The roars of the buses trying too hard to keep a tidy schedule filled his ears. The wave of vehicles, absorbed in a million destinations, cascaded roaring engines bouncing off his ear drums. The wind off of their turbulence brushed his hair like a natural painter. He could only let a quaint smile dash his lips as the cool breeze embraced him like an old friend. He allowed his gloved hands to rest calmly in his pockets, keeping them concealed from the nip in the air. His chin nuzzled into the nape of his coat flap, begging for its warmth, yet oddly enjoying the chill. He was reminded of the days when he was a child and for the life of him, he could not sleep without a fan on. The slight freeze was always comforting to him. Perhaps this was an extreme version of what he always enjoyed anyhow.

Terry idly whipped his phone out from his jeans pocket with a flash. The dated fossil flipped open, revealing the time. The screen illuminated his face with a bathing blue light. The numbers read back to him as, “11:51 pm.” A long winded sigh bellowed from the depth of his lungs. He returned the artifact back to his coat pocket in defeat. His mind traveled to the impending doom of the day shift he was to soon work. A knowledgeable man would have been in bed resting by now, but Terry was not known for being too knowledgeable. He prided himself on being wiser than book smart. It was not as if he did not respect of desire knowledge, but it did not come to him as easily as it did for others. Math was all but a mystery. However, it did not take complex math skills to let him know that he needed at least seven hours as a healthy person in order to function next morning.

Terry shrugged indifferently. He most likely wouldn’t have slept well anyhow. His dirty blonde mop strode in the wind as he scanned the rooftop for his friend. Once again, it did not seem he had arrived. Another bereft sigh and he is leaning against the roof’s edge. The dull whir of the passing gust is soothing, beckoning to him with seductive whispers of sleep. His eyes fall to a half lidded position, begging for the man to rest for once in his life.
He shakes his head, bringing his gloved fingers out from his pockets and to his eyes. His index finger and his thumb carefully stroke his eyes. He pushes harder than he should, pushing hard for them to last at least another hour after his friend finally arrives. His mopped head shakes left and right briefly to jar his attention.

Terry decides to flip his phone open once more, clicking through his contacts. He begins to stroll back and forth idly, until he finds his destination. His thumbs meander until they reach the contact reading, “Emilie Sagaldo.” He lets a silly grin spread across his face. Terry hadn’t even noticed it had found itself there. His thumbs go right to work, sputtering out whatever came off of the top his head. However, Terry was more than considerate, especially to people he’d only briefly met. He used the best of his manners and mustered a social message.

“Hey, are you awake?”


“How original,” Terry muttered to himself, reaching for the orange, glass bottled soda he had brought outside with him. He scooped it off of the roof’s edge and engaged in a loud slurp. As he was putting the bottle back down, a faded green glow caught the corner of his eye. Terry’s eyes did not break from his phone. His smile was too drawn to seeing that the text had successfully sent to its intended receiver. Furthermore, his vibration on his phone sometimes failed to alert him correctly, so he had to pay attention or else he’d miss the possible reply.

“Man, you had me thinking you’d stood me up there for a while!” Terry coyly teased, not breaking gaze with his phone.