Chris Topley

Before My Eyes

The weather wasn't particularly bad that day but I knew it would be windy. I had thought the pure force of it would be enough to consume and deter me from any digressions my mind decided to follow but as I left my top-floor apartment to the busy New York street below, making my way down the same eighteen floors I had walked countless times over the last decade - where I had side-stepped neighbours on the stairwell with only a nod of the head or an obliged 'good morning' - the only present currents were seemingly important memories, particularly those of experiences that had led me here to this day.