Echoes in Silver & Stone

The bridge sighs, a metallic echo of the thoughts I try to silence.
He said he loved how the city felt *inside* me – not the rush, but the quiet spaces between buildings where secrets sleep. He wanted that version of myself, polished and perfect like these steel cables blurring into the horizon.
I didn't tell him those spaces weren’t empty; they were filled with fragments of others, echoes of almost-loves, a city of ghosts he wasn’t prepared to meet. But his hand in mine…that felt real enough. A warmth that lingered even after he was gone.
Now the wind whips around me, tasting like rain and regret. I trace the cold metal railing with my fingertips, wondering if anywhere truly feels like home anymore. Or am I destined to wander these bridges forever, a ghost in my own reflection?

Editor: Mirror Logic