the key
Occupying the main boulevard was not something I was made to go through at any point of my purpose. Yet, I lie upon the concrete, taking the heat with my motionless body made of steel.
Before, I used to be placed on a different spot right under the awning of a flower shop, as I heard some people call it. I used to listen to the rain hit the awning and the wind’s rustling while fighting against the buildings rising from the ground. Though I could always hear a noise much more aggressive coming from the distance.
One day, a person stood above me, carrying a long stick with yellow straws that, in one swing, swept away all of the crusty flower leaves – and with them, under the force of the stick, I flew out of the awning’s shadows and landed straight onto the middle of the sidewalk. From here, the rhythms coming from all around sounded different. The vibrations under people’s steps were louder and more frequent, and they were merging together with the heavy sounds of machines of all sizes and shapes. The scent of magnolia was also replaced by many odours coming from some of the machines and immediately disappeared into the sky. There were lights flashing out of every machine so brightly that they outshined the sky I used to look at all the time. I could not make the difference between any sensation anymore – every corner was screaming all at once, as the quiet whisper of the tiles was silenced the moment I was banished from in between the flowers.
As night fell over the city, the hard concrete was starting to get colder, and the temperature embraced my body. Although the darkness was sneaking between the buildings, the footsteps went on and on, until a pair of them stopped right in front of me.
“Dude, check this out!” I heard a high-pitched voice coming from over me. “Somebody lost their key,” said the loud individual as they placed his hands around my body and raised me in the air to a level that met their eyes. It seemed like a young boy.
“Just throw it away, it looks old as hell and we can’t even use it,” replied his friend, another boy who seemed to be the same age.
“And what if we can?” Their conversation was drowning in the roar of machines passing by. After a second I glanced back at the pair and they were maliciously smiling at each other.
“Wait, what if we get caught?” said the second boy after a pause. “I don’t feel like being grounded again, even worse.”
“We won’t get caught. Come on! Let’s go before my dad starts calling me!” And they shook the sidewalk’s tiles with their playful steps ahead.
I was sticking out of the boy’s hand and looking at the landscape passing by. The quick pace made everything look like a large gray spot that broadcasts rays of light onto the asphalt.
Soon, the steps became slower and I heard one of the boys whisper, “Is this the car?”. “Yes, and you must crawl down because the kitchen seems busy.”, responded the other.
The boy turned his hand the other direction and I had a better look at my surroundings. Where we were standing seemed almost exactly like where I used to be before I was left on the street. All the smells, sounds and overwhelming speed were gone. Instead, the sidewalks here blended into peaceful areas full of green, and they were touched by warm beams of light coming from the buildings’ windows.
Almost immediately, my nostalgic memories were interrupted by the machine, behind which the two boys crawled. They were smiling even more maliciously than before and one of them said silently, “What an expensive car. It would be a shame if something happened to it!”
And then, the evening peace was broken. I suddenly felt something – something so deeply painful, that would make me scream desperately, spoiling the resting darkness. The boy was holding me tight while dragging my sharp edge across the flat surface of the machine. He kept going back and forth for what felt like the slowest passing of time I have ever experienced! Until…
“Quick, somebody is coming!” said urgently the other boy while already standing up. In only the blink of an eye, I found myself thrown in a dirty wet mud slightly under the machine. The sound of my scream was still lingering as an echo throughout my body.
“Hey! Who’s there? What are you doing to my car? Stop!”. I heard a deeper voice approach above me. He was yelling behind those boys, while looking at the machine and panting. He was talking loudly while throwing gestures and other people gathered at the same time. Loud gasps and curious eyes shook the peaceful street but the sensational event was soon coming to its end.
Later in the night, the crowd of people was gone again, but everything else remained the same – including myself.
Occupying the suburban pavements was not something I was made to go through at any point of my purpose.
the peripheral view 