The water stretches out in front of him, a harsh blue color that's murky and muddled so much that you can't even see an inch below the surface. There's a slight dampness to the railing--a result of the rain that had only just stopped ten minutes ago--that he's leaning his folded arms on. The air is still and calm, and rain clouds linger over head, but everything is relaxed. Like the worst is done for and it can only get better from here. Everyone is out now, running around with their kids or hanging out with their girlfriends or boyfriends or whatever they are. There's a playground to the right of him, situated right in the corner where the railing curves to follow the path of the river, and it's filled with moms and dads with their young kids, laughter filling the once silent area.
This
