Postcard Project

Just before dawn, as the night is leaving, timeless and temporal meet.

I slip out to my balcony and down the fire escape softly, ever so softly, skipping the third rung that jangles, feet tapping snowy cobblestone at just the right moment.

No need to hurry through the streets. At this hour, swirling flakes and beating hearts are the only signs of existence. I wander, concealed in snowflakes, protected by their nonsense. The trees are barren, reaching skyward in an endless fashion. I’m tempted to climb one. Perhaps… 

Light starts to glitter across the cobblestone. I break into a run, challenging the approaching dawn.

Where to? Every quest needs a destination. The church. The church! Of course. The starting place. The ending place.

I glimpse my blurred reflection from darkened windows and grin; I’m not even real.

There it is, crowned in a light that is barely yet born. I pause to breathe before the heavy doors so as not to intrude on the magic. I inch my way in and tip toe up the stairs, careful not to disturb the tired stone. Quiet murmurs bounce around high ceilings.

Finally, I reach Zurich. The sun laughs and rises complacently over the new snow.

Wind bites my cheeks. The river glistens, untouched by the chill.

The heartbeat of the city is just as it has always been.

The sun seeps into closed windows and I relax into the old stonewall to watch time inch slowly forward.