Five Sentence Fiction - BEAUTY

The fall of my silent footsteps keep time with the melancholy wail of a lone saxophone echoing through the valley of man-made mountains.  On the corner, steamy apparitions escape their underground confinement through colorful tubes and disappear into the frigid night air. The "City That Never Sleeps" is  just resting it's eyes until the sun lends its warmth to the snow dusted streets and sidewalks below.

  Meandering  footprints mark my passing, and like the fabled bread crumbs, they will be gone upon my return. Unlike the storied children though, I know no matter how far I stray, I will always be able to find my way home.