I exhaled, my breath visible in the cool early-morning atmosphere. a wind had crept through the holes in the dilapidated building, making what was an already unbearable night more strenuous. My eyes and throat were dry, and I knew at this rate I wasn't going to get any rest.
At about two A.M., I decided I'd head out for a walk around Chestnut Hillock Reservoir, just for the hell of it. It seemed around the breaking hours of the morning I was the most mentally sound. The world was still; it wasn't pierced with gun shots, nor was I ridden with anxiety or paranoia. It was times like these I was brought back to the Pre-War days.
I'd rented out an apartment here back in the summer of 57'. I had a close friend, Clement Raleigh, who lived in one of those posh little homes around the lake. He'd take me out around town, buy me a drink, and we'd sit down and talk about how horrible we thought our lives were. Pretty ironic, right? At the time I worked as a reporter for the Boston Bugle, and I made a lot less than I hoped I would, working for a known journalism company and all. As for Clements, He always had this dream of becoming a touring stand-up comedian, and I always told him he was damn crazy for thinking he could be some big-time celebrity like that. I still supported him though. I actually hooked him up with a gig at a local bar one time. The owner was a friend of my dad's, so it wasn't exactly hard convincing him to let Clements give it a go that Friday night. I sat down at the bar, having a few more drinks than I should have, laughing like I was insane at Clemmy's sub-par jokes.
A sliver of sunlight cut through the polluted wasteland sky, pulling me out of my reflection. I took a moment to stand up from the muddied ground, giving the reservoir one last glance before heading back into the city.