Matthew hadn't taken his medication today. He felt fine without it. Sometimes better than fine. His doctor said that there was a chemical imbalance in his brain, and that made him act the way he did.

He looked down at his hands. They looked the same today as they did last week, the last day he had taken his pills. His grandmother had brought him his pills everyday, but he only pretended to take them.

He flexed his fingers. He could feel the muscles in his hand move to perform the action. When he was on his medication, his movements seemed more muted, like he was less aware of them. And colors looked duller.

He shifted on the park bench, to get his face in the spotty shade provided by an overhead branch. The sun seemed bright, angry. He sat for a few moments, but the sun was lowering in the sky, and made it more difficult to find shade. Small adjustments ceased to work, until he finally stood in frustration. He pondered sitting on the back of the bench, but knew even the sanctuary that provided would soon disappear.

Instead Matthew chose the director that offered the most shade, and started walking. In the distance he could hear the traffic of the interstate. As he walked it got louder. As he neared the fence that separated the park from the thoroughfare, Matthew began to pick up the rhythm of the thrum of motors. The joints in the road provided a basic beat, with delivery trucks brining an irregular rumble into the mix. Matthew stopped fifty meters from the fence and listened for a while, picking up the song of the street. Any closer and the traffic would be too loud, he knew. After a few moments, he started humming along. The song was more beautiful, more compelling, than any birdsong he encountered in the park.

Something in the rhythm moved him, made him want to pleasure himself. He had just put his hand in his pants when the sun sank lower and shone on his back, stretching a long shadow out in front of him.

He turned and glared at the sun. It's angry light blazed down at him. He zipped up his pants, and stalked off toward the center of the park. He knew there were some buildings that would provided shade until the sun sank and the streetlights came on.

He sat at the base of the building, watching the playground. There were only a few children there, one boy pushing the merry-go-round for a girl and boy, and another girl on the swings.

He watched the swinging girls as she used her legs to push herself higher. Up and up she went. Matthew turned his gaze higher, so he only caught the upswing at either end of the arc. She looked like a bouncing ball. Higher she went, and Matthew silently urged her to let go, for surly at that speed she would fly, and stop the ridiculous bouncing.

She didn't let go, but continued to swing. The other girl joined her, and soon they were two bouncing entities, not quite in synch; up, down – up... up, down down...up, down. Matthew was getting dizzy from watching them, and still they swung. Up, down... up, up, down.

"Jump, goddamnit!" Matthew was standing, glaring.

The girls were looking at him, their feet sliding on the sand as they brought themselves to a stop. One girl, the second, let go once the swing was low, let go and landed in a half run, the other continued to drag her feet to reach a stop.

Matthew imagined her feet getting caught in the sand, and her tipping out of the swing and onto the ground. In his mind, the sand turned to concrete, and when she hit, her dead hit first, and a deep red flower grew on the concrete from where she made impact.

Matthew blinked, and looked back at the swings. They were hanging, limp. The entire playground was empty, now. He was sitting against the building, his knees up, one hand idly stroking himself.

He stood, and walked over to the swing. He sat on one, and looked for blood in the sand. Finding none, he let his feet go, and began a slow swing.

The sun was nearly gone from the sky, and low enough to turn the clouds a beautiful blood red. Matthew sat and swung, humming the song of the street, and decided that he wanted to see the sunset from the same spot tomorrow, to see if it was just as grand. So he sat and waited.