There I sit, alone. My eyes drift through many souls. I see them walk, none like another, all different yet the same as the other.
Now I stand, I walk away from the table. The streets are full, but walking among crowds is no odd tale. When I see them, however, my eyes always flash. I see when they die, when they live and how long they last. Each time I see their soul, see it fade away like nothing. When their soul is almost gone, I stand and watch to see what's happening.
Then I see something horrific, maybe an accident, maybe fate. But they are sure to end, the soul never fades too late. A flash of crimson, or they may fall down in agonizing pain. Or something special happens, and something I see rarely won't be lost in vain. An impossible composition arrives, and death comes yet again.
Yet, in this moment, I was bumped against. Even though every human walked through me again and again, this soul touched my skin. I was shocked as the woman firmly apologized to me. She turned around an