Strokes of neon blue

The seating in the library is not spacious, but it is enough for me to have both of my legs crossed on the chair without anyone noticing and have my belongings on the chair next to me. Every now and then I would yawn and look out of the massive window across on the lower level. The windows are enormous, they are the ones that go from the ceiling to the floor. However, they’re half blocked by the massive shelves in front of them. These shelves of wisdom formed a blockade between me and the outside world, providing some weirdly shaped spaces and gaps for me to get a glimpse of the cityscape.

There is not much to see anyway. It’s dark and gloomy like any other day in Vancouver. Occasionally a few passerby with interesting, or you can call it high-fashioned, clothing walk by would catch my attention, or this taxi driver who stopped earlier in the middle of the street to wipe out the snow that mischievously slipped from the top of the car onto the windshield. From lip reading I think he cursed a bit too.

It is expectedly quiet and calm in the library. I yawn again and look down at the research article I am working on. The sleepiness is starting to empowering my body, the shell of the soul. I look out, trying to think of an excuse to leave.

Then I see a quick flash of movement at the left side of the window. I squint my eyes to search for it, but nothing is there.

“You’re too tired,” I say to myself. And yes, this is a legitimate reason for me to leave. I start packing up my laptop and notebooks.

As I walk downstairs toward the front door, I see flashes in the corner of my eye again. I make a dramatic turn with my head and stop halfway down the stairs.

This time I see it.

It’s a fox. A blue fox. With, white flame on its tale.

“What.” I exclaimed silently.

Like every other characters would do in movies or cartoons, I rub my eyes to make sure I am not hallucinating.  But there it is, a blu fox with a flaming tale. It licks its right front leg and nervously looks up in the sky.

“Seriously? this is like anime shit.” I look around the room to see if anyone else see this bizarre scene. No one seem to notice it. I confess, I swear a little.

The fox then runs off down the street and disappears from my vision.

I dash out of the library and run toward where the fox was. There is no sight of the animal except a few drops of blue sparkly liquid on the ground. Yeah, they are sparkly.

Now. When the whole world does not see what you see, does that make you the insane one?

With the thought of stupidity, I quickly walk away from the spot and head toward the skytrain station. I must be super tired. Or maybe there is something wrong with me? I shouldn’t be this tired since I slept till 11am this morning. Anyway, I am on my way home now.

I step into the train and find a seat by the window. Sense of guilt and depression arise as I rethink of today’s productivity. There is never enough time in a day. Things always tend to take much longer than I expected.

“Expo Line to King George,” a monotone voice is heard, and the doors close. The train leaves the station, entering a dark tunnel. While still thinking about what happened earlier, I turn up my iTunes. Free Animal by Foreign Air is playing.

My heart pitter-patters to the broken sound. You’re the only one that can calm me down.

It’s quarter pass 10pm, and there are still many late workers getting onto the train. All of them looking exhausted. I wonder, what do we live for? For a better tomorrow?

My head spins in circles so I’m dizzy now. All of this time I should’ve figured it out.

The train pierce through the tunnel gently and stops by another station. We see the night skies again.

And there is also the blue fox.

It stands firmly on the roof of a nearby building. I sit up straight and stare at it. This time it is not running away. It stands there as though it is aware of my gaze.

I’m a free animal, free animal.

As the train start moving the fox also starts running. It’s following the train.

“What the f*ck is going on?” I look back at the people in the train. No one seem to react to the fox. Am I the only one seeing this? Am I going crazy??

I sit back down on the chair. “This is not real,” I think to myself, “none of it is real. This is way too far from reality.”

The fox follows the train from stop to stop. Its movements from building to building are like paint strokes in the sky. They are neon blue, with faint silver particles. They are beautiful.

I stand up as the train slowly parks at my station. The blue fox slows down too and stands on a tree branch in the forest beside the station. I get off the train and run out of the station to see it.

The forest is pitch black. The fox is still standing on the tree looking at me. I take a step closer to the forest, then stop. That is one big-a** dark forest man. I’m a chicken.

I back up and look at the fox. We stare at each other for 15 minutes.

Fear overcome me. I turn and start walking back home.

I will never find out the ending of an adventurous journey, or the reveal of a magical truth, or the blue fox in the deep forest, when I choose to stand by fear. After all, I’m not a hero nor an important character that discover the mystery of a spectacular land. I’m not the chosen one, because I choose to not be the one.

I look back after a few minutes of walk. It is only a dark forest. No sparks of blue.

(Found this image on google. Can’t find the original source, but it’s from this page:


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