Excerpt: The Writings of William Winchester

Call me William. I looked to the sky as night befell The Great City. Others also turned their heads up to behold the annual luminous light show that had always fixated so many for so long. For all I knew, this light show had been going on forever, turning millions of heads to the sky, to marvel at the city's ingenuity. I remembered back to days long past, a dreamy childhood when events like this one had once captured my attention and imagination and excited my mind. I looked up then however and felt virtually nothing. I saw through the big bangs and booms as the others oohed and ahhed at the glittering sparkles. I seemed to see past the bright dazzling lights.

Beyond them was a dark nothingness that blanketed the sky. Stars hid behind. I knew they were there from all I'd read and all the pictures I'd seen. The Great City shone bright into the night, lighting up the sky so that hardly a star could peek through. Reflections in the water rebounded flashes of brilliance from the surface, duplicating the spectacle for the easily impressed city folk that seemed to love nothing more than to venture out in their millions and watch, just watch as the light show unfolded. The watercourse ran dead straight for miles upon miles. It was the lifeblood of The Great City. God knows when it had been built.

I turned away. Enough! Moving pictures in the sky, recounting ancient tales or morality with such ferver and delight. The magority of the masses seemed transfixed. I saw a young couple holding hands, and as I started walking off in the direction of the Watercourse Bridge, they gave a quick sideways glance. Encaged within a hovering parambulator was their offspring. The top was down of course, and they made certain that baby had a perfect view of the show. Was I ever so young?