Packing things away, Life should go on - Pt ii

November 27, 2008

Untitled

So you see there’s this guy, and he’s with his girlfriend on the bus (where I seem to encounter a few interesting people these days) and they’re having an argument or a discussion or something. I can’t tell from where I’m sitting. What I can tell, right, is that the girl’s mad at the guy or concerned at the guy or something. Basically she’s the one that’s in some form of distress. Now, this damsel is giving him the works; concerned frown, short, quick gestures with her hands and a little bit of hope lingering on her lips.

The guy though - this swooping knight in shining armour that’s supposed to rescue her or something - he’s just like sitting there confused. He’s got a little frown too, but it’s a frown like he doesn’t know what to do.

I can sympathise.

November 22, 2008

The Short Life

I swallowed this little flying piece of pestilence this morning. The vermin wasn't a particularly large bug, perhaps the size of a fly or a gnat, but I'm pretty sure it was neither. The consistency was far more chewy than that of either the gnat or the fly. I suspect that a gnat would crunch under the pressure of my carnivorous jaws.

However, I know for certain that a fly would merely dissolve in my mouth, that I would barely be able to recognize that a living fly had entered my mouth and begun the long digestive trek that ends quite definitively in the digestive tracts. I've swallowed flies before, and the bug I swallowed this morning was not a fly.

I'm guessing that the thing I swallowed this morning was a hybrid of sorts, a bastard child. I don't think it could have been any other type, because this one fought like hell to survive the involuntary retchings of my throat. It probably had issues - huge, emotionally crippling issues in order to put up a fight as long as this one did. No ordinary fly would have known such coping techniques.

If the thing I swallowed this morning was in fact not this special bastard bug, but one of those unremarkable pure breds from a stable home with two supportive parents, I sincerely hope that the father doesn't come looking for me.

Note - None of the above was wanton... I have since been washing my mouth with soap, detergent, toothpaste, kitchen surface cleaners. Its a good thing I don't have to talk.

November 18, 2008

Untitled

So, I’m a room. It’s a big room, a little too big for my ..........

Oct 26, 2008

Keeping Pace

Every day the day gets brighter for those couple of minutes. Getting home from work now in the evenings is a little bit like being blind, and the only thing saving me is the high sidewalk keeping vehicles at bay. And after walking for 10 minutes, suddenly the bright light is slowly touching me - and I don’t have to be afraid for being hit by a share-rick or something.

“Hello”. It was the girl I tended to see whenever I cross the stadium. She jogs past me everyday, and for just a nanosecond our eyes meet each time and then she’s gone. But today she had stopped. And I’m standing still as well.

“Hello?” I said without really knowing why. “Um… I know this might sound strange but…. I was wondering what you are doing?” She looked so shy and afraid when she asked, almost like she’d been practising all day. “What I’m doing?” I asked shocked. Walking back to sector 21!

“It’s just that I see you on so often that I’ve starting to wonder where you’re on your way….”

All of a sudden I had the opportunity to say things like:

“There’s just so many girls in the city so I tend to use this as my area to get the work done. Selling myself here is so much safer than other places. Are you interested by the way?”

“I’m undercover. Please go away.”

“I'm trying out a new exercise regimen. It’s very secret.”

But since my mouth tends to run around faster than my brain, all I had was “Er…. I’m walking back home to Sector 21.” I said like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“But the sector is over there…” she pointed. Quite obviously, I had missed the turn. “Yeah I know…. I’m just ummm .... taking this route so that there is a little bit more light. I don’t like walking in the dark.”

And I found myself talking to a complete stranger who refuses to stop jogging even though I am walking really slowly.

September 30, 2008

When I write to haunt

Love and pithy verses you hear, say what you can't say.

All I shall have to say is, move on, and I'll stand by anyway.

From your changing contentments, what will you choose to share?

Someday drawing you different, may love be weaved into your hair.