Yell

I stand in the darkness where two shadows cross and begin to yell. My voice grows hoarser as my yell drags out, but I do not run out of breath. For minutes the gravel depths flow out of me and into the night. My knees feel weak and my head floats off into lightness. The pigeons grow accustomed to the noise and peak over the gutters high above. Hours pass and the streetlights are replaced by sunlight; still the yell comes. My ears become numb. My whole being is wrapped into that yell, until finally it fades into a groan.