The sky darkened to a caliginous grey as the familiar sight of blue lightning loomed over the horizon, over the hills and beyond the city limits into the country. Malevolent clouds formed into amorphous shapes, bringing with it a steady shower of rain, dissipating the haze that had plagued the city for so long. The raindrops instilled a sense of respite, a feeling of jubilation for the end of suffering, but life, as it seemed, was never kind enough to bestow happiness into the hearts of men. The constant flashes of lightning culminated in gargantuan explosions throughout the green lands, causing streams of red and yellow all around, only to be beaten back by the approaching downpour. As the rain clouds meandered off into no man's land, the city was once again engulfed in the haze - turning into what it always had been since the depression.

I sat on a decrepit bench facing the monolithic building that was Berkley And Sons Inc., contemplating about how a world so pure, so brimmed over with love and clarity could transform into the harsh reality it was today. The bench was adorned with intricate designs, relics of a past when creativity and innovation were plentiful and significant, its every carving painted a vision of a possible future, or at least one that was better than today.

Surrounding the park was the only piece of greenery within the city – Central Park, now teeming with an overgrowth of plants and vegetation, a testament to the poor maintenance of public property. In a sense the sight of the unkempt jungle gave me some clarity, a place that allowed me to think without the drudgery of the modern world stalking me every time I woke up in the morning. I spent every morning sitting on that same bench, my mind convalescing from the monotonous life outside the stone walls of the park.

Often times I found my thoughts in disarray, desiccated by the repugnance of the world and doubtful of the future of my fellow man. Love and hate merged into a confluence of chaos, turning my mind into a war zone with my heart caught in the crossfire. I had lost myself countless times in the sea of hatred which I swim through every day, putting on fake smiles and committing acts of legerdemain with little hesitation even against my peers. Friends were no longer friends and the term fellowship became but a waning shibboleth, lost in the sands of time, never to be rekindled again.

At one point in time I had driven myself to the very nadir of destruction, my spirit crushed by an overflow of remorse and shame. I was not brought up to be a sinner; I was not created to become a pawn for anguish… My very actions betrayed my soul self, turning me into the very monster I promised myself not to become, but I did, and because of that I lost everything – my wife, my three children, my life. Being on the verge of a complete retreat into my own little world, I put myself on medication, hoping that antidepressants might mollify my suicidal thoughts, bringing me into a level of equanimity that I once enjoyed in the past. It did not work…

It was not until I found my saving grace that my disconsolation was purged from my being – an antiquated bench that resided in a deserted park, lonely yet enigmatically serene. It was there that I felt at peace with myself, giving me time to convalesce from my emotional downward spiral. Once again I was free from torment, giving me a new lease on life, helping me get through my remaining days. Through the aegis of the past, I found the one thing I was devoid of all along – I finally found hope.