The sun is shinning, birds are singing and there is not a single cloud in the sky. It’s a beautiful day, or time, to be alive.

I walk slowly while stepping on dry leaves. I have more than enough time on my hands and that feels okay. I have no pressure on me, and that feels just fine.

The sun shines brighter, it warms my skin and a playful breeze throws my hair back as it caresses my cheek.

And then it begins...

The breeze is gone, but something it’s wrong. I’m feeling hot. My hair is not tidy anymore (f**king breeze), I get annoyed. My neck itches, is it like 48 degrees? I take out my scarf and start to walk faster and faster, as if I could run from myself. It gets hotter and hotter, my vision blurrier and blurrier.

I run out of breath.

My chest contracts painfully.

My body gives in.

I drop on my knees.

My hands start burning as they touch the ground. My body feels heavy and my coat completely unnecessary. Or is it the other way around...? Yes, my coat feels heavy and my body unnecessary.

With much difficulty I come to my feet. My hands start to shake as I try to gather myself. I despair. I don’t know what’s going on. I breathe faster and faster, attempting to get as much air as possible, but none of it reaches my lungs.

Suffocation. What an awful way to die.

Death. Not that awful at all.

Is this how I go? Just because my brain decided it was time to take a break, am I supposed to let go?

I’m willing to... but am I supposed to?

I take out a cigarette and put it in my mouth. My hands won’t stop shaking, I have to hold the lighter with both of my hands. Then, anxiously, I take a deep drag. The smoke in my throat reaches my lungs and I can breathe again.

Before I realize it, the cigarette is burned out. I smoked too fast. Or maybe just as fast as I needed.

I take out another cigarette as I keep walking. I have no idea where I’m headed, but I don’t think it matters anymore.

I go through the crowd and I don’t see their faces, I cross many streets and I barely hear the cars that go by, I see a lot of stores but it feels as if all were closed.

I come to a stop before entering a dead end and look around me. I see it, on the distance, a flowing river with diamond-like water. Now I know where I’m going.

After an hour or two (or maybe just a couple of minutes) I reach my precious stones.

I smile as I look at the remaining cigarettes. Proud of myself. I’ve smoked at least half a pack.

I hide my things behind some rocks and carefully undress myself.

In the end, I reckon it’s a nice day for a swim.