Light Pollution

It was late night and the water was indescribable. It glimmered; there was a blue light reflecting on the river's surface from another bridge further south. William was pushed up against the bridge's rail.

"If you think this is beautiful," he said, "you should definitely do shrooms."

"But I already think it's beautiful. Why do I need shrooms?"

"Those colors would just pop."

"They already are popping."

It was true. When I stared at it hard enough,it looked like the lights were flashing from below the surface of the water and swirling and bubbling upward.

Then William said, "Looking over bridges makes me want to jump."

"Yeah. I know what you mean. I would never have the balls to jump, though."

Neither of us looked at each other. We were both mesmerized by the water. The sides of the river were tinged orange from the streetlights and the highway. Whenever I think of light pollution, I think of these streetlights. They make everything look like a seedy seventies movie.

There was a long pause, I think William and I were trying to access the distance between us and the river.

Eventually I said, "I think you should jump."

He got up on the rail and jumped out, feet first. When he hit, the glimmering blue was interrupted for only a moment.

When he finally surfaced he yelled, "I'm Ok," and began to swim toward the seedy streetlights. I was really glad he was alright. It was a warm evening and by the time we got home he was completely dry. In the night, the whole thing began to trouble me. What bothered me most was how little he effected the surface of the water and how no matter how hard I try, describing the way the river looked is impossible.