Ernest had slouched for hours, molding to the hard seat, feet hanging lifelessly over the bridge balcony to the channel that divided the tall street. The invasive chime of bike bells was softened ever so slightly by the gentle, rhythmic slapping of ripples on canal walls. The sun began to creep behind neighbouring apartments, spewing golden rays over the water, casting shadows behind bikes that lined the sidewalk. The air was calm and warm. As though it was not there at all. People raced by Ernest, yet his expression laid flat, eyes unfixed. His cigarette stuck out of the corner of his mouth depleted to a stump. The first signs of movement saw the cigarette flicked into the water below, for another to be freshly lit. Amongst the commotion of
