(004)
There was something different about today. You could feel it in the half-caught glances between strangers in the streets, a vibrant energy skittering across them all and bringing them with it. Even the flea bitten dogs and greasy cats who loitered in the dockside were enticed, and Eric sensed that that must mean something.
He wandered towards the river, following the ever-growing hustle and bustle of whatever it was that was happening, like re-tracing an impulse back to the source. His bare, nimble feet lead him down the cobbled road towards the bridge, ducking and weaving between legs and under arms, all techniques that served him well on the markets when it came to it. Finally, however, there was no way forward.
He picks his way out to the right, off the path, slipping past embroidered dresses and oil covered overalls until he feels dirt against the soles of his feet. He pushes on. Lost in the middle of it all, up against the world, fighting for his right to be involved. Suddenly, between a sea of legs he sees the river, if only for a moment.
He pushes a way through, courting slaps and kicks as he does so, but progressing nevertheless. Until one kick catches him flush in the back and sends him tumbling through the condensed forest of legs. Winded, he writhes to right himself but is unable, taking short, staggered half breaths, drowning in thin air. He feels the palm of a hand against the collar of his tunic, followed by the fingers gripping him and pulling him, lifting him up and out onto the shoulders they’re attached to. The short clipped hair feels coarse against his thighs. The light makes him wince a little, along with the pain in his back, but his breath is beginning to return. Eric looks at the man beneath him, but his eyes are on the water, looking back towards the bridge.
An enormous, preposterous boat chunters down the river, deep gold and red hues poured all across the outside of it, emanating from the coat of arms emblazoned along the side. Guards line the outer edges of all three levels, furry hats as tall as them. At the head of the boat sit a couple bedecked in even more red and gold, with accents of medals and jewels. They look down on the crowds and proffer a gentle oscillating wave, smiling, but only with their mouths. Eric watches on as the boat makes its ponderous way around the bend. He scans across the crowd of faces, searching for something he didn’t quite understand, finding only wide-eyed wonder and people on tip-toes or hanging from trees trying to get a better look. Nothing to match the sinking feeling growing in his gut that there was something he was missing.
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