A vagrant busker strummed his scarred guitar, crooning a folk song with feigned sorrow for a few crumpled dollars. Above him, the sun glowed orange and pink. Lost souls wandered past in search of solace and contentment, none with any admiration for the beauty of such simple sights.
Further down the footbridge, triplets rode tandem on a small bicycle made for two. Their parents raced after them, but proved no match for wheels. The kids zipped by with ease, yelling at the top of their lungs, “Don’t you try to come after us!”
For hours, Alison had been watching all of these, taking in every bit of emotion she could feel in the air. Woes of the poor man. Frustrations of the working class. Pure happiness of the young family on a short-lived vacation. This was what she did every morning, since the day she found out that her imminent future would be in darkness.
In time, she had learnt to see more than this city ever would. Even if it never seemed enough, she knew it had to be. Turning to the seas that she loved, she leaned against the railings as she whispered, Remember. Remember everything.
Wind carried her soft voice into the air, like it did so often a drifting leaf. Alison smiled at the thought of her lost words. Then, her lips found those same words again.
The old man next to Alison did not turn to look as he did before. He had realised that what she had said over and over again, was for no one else. Her words were there, simply to remind herself to remember everything in sight, while she still could.
No cameras. No easels. Pictures and paintings meant so little when all she would have to rely on in future, was delicate memory. Still, she was content that she was here in the moment. All she had to do was to remember it all.
Alison memorised each ray of the scorching sun above the towering bridge. She learnt the face of every man and woman lit up under the warm orange glow, watching the calm waves with no telling of just what was on their minds. As the sunlight gleamed upon the waters, she gazed at its beautiful shimmer.
As fate would have it, that was the moment her sight started to mist. She thought, if that was the last thing she would see, she could not ask for more. Taking a deep breath, she mustered a smile anew.
Remember, remember everything.
As Alison looked up at the evening sun, her sight started to leave her. She barely let it show on the surface. Her eyelids fluttered, all before her sight faded to grey. It grew dimmer and dimmer still, unforgiving, until her whole world was engulfed in a sheath of total darkness.
She closed her eyes, then opened them again. This time, there was nothing. She saw nothing at all. All these years, she had been afraid of this suffocating nightmare, tired of its impending presence. Yet now as she stood incarcerated by her own sealed windows, she felt no fear.
After all, she had seen it all.
Daily Prompt: Shimmer