The smell of the night still lingered in the air, slowly thinning as we made our way down the unusually deserted roads, as I was blindly following the crowd of three a little bit of a distance ahead of the rest of us. We didn't talk much, never did; and being travelling companions with a common goal did nothing much to bridge that disconnect, save for a silent acknowledge of one another's presence.
Fatigue probably played a large factor to the unwillingness to converse as well, as the mind-set of maximizing the time left on foreign shores - which had me making the decision to take the last bus out, only to arrive at 4 in the morning with nowhere to go but a nearby MacDonald's to wait the time out - probably left my body more dry than high; partially from the lack of sleep, but perhaps more so from the boredom of waiting.
And yet, there I was, searching for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow; hoping to find a rare glimpse of beauty in the ordinary, to find the worth in the while for all the physical fatigue...
The first step onto the bridge proper had me lifting up my head, seeing it stretch far into the distance, across the strait, with its suspension cords stretching towards the heavens, into the darkness above. Step by step, we walked down the bridge, going further and further into the thinning darkness.
A pinkish glow started to crawl along the sky - slowly but surely engulfing the darkness. The rattling of wheels and the distinct sound of bicycle bells rang behind us, as the bridge started to awaken with activity. Voices and shouts heard in the distance ahead, as step by step, we had come to the quarter-mark of the bridge.
The ground beneath our feet shook more than slightly - a consequence of the high speed vehicles zooming by under our feet, with the sound of the roaring engines to accompany the sensation. More and more violently the earth beneath us shook, and the frequency of passing engine roars increased exponentially.
Just as we reached the halfway mark, I heard exclamations coming from the group ahead of us, as they started pointing towards the direction in which the water below us ran towards - eastwards. A thin ray of light shot vertically upwards from behind one of the buildings; and in almost an instant, spread out into a fan-like shape that stretched out in multiple directions. I stared intently, waiting for the visual climax.
A round golden silhouette peaked its head above a building, as I instinctively brought my hands to shield my eyes, unable to bear the intensity of the light. The great ball of light climbed confidently up the morning sky, assured of its dominance over the city, as its golden glory carassed the faces of buildings near and far, having them respond with a golden glow off their reflective surfaces. The city had awoken to yet another sunrise.
I had found my pot of gold, in all its blinding glory - the glimpse of the sunrise in the Big Apple, probably a sight that millions wake up to every morning and see nothing out of the ordinary in - but yet, for one on foreign lands, it probably bore the significance of the start of the last chapter of the journey, as we headed towards our final weeks on this land.
The sunlight fell on my face, as I took in the air to smell the morning...
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