Its hard to look at the face of our better halves when they are not lying next to us as we wake up, when they are not there just yet. I feel strapped to my bed, unable to start up. Unreasonably tired after heavy idleness. Sometimes one finds it in himself to – shit! I’m late for work! Spring out of bed and go straight to the bathroom. Quick shower, quick shave, quick breakfast and quick brush. Run towards the bus before I – too late. See it passing by the other side of zebra. Next one will be here in five. No problem. I can relax now and light a one up, by the time I am done the bus will be here. I can never be bothered with music lately, too much of a headache in the mornings. Should probably get that checked out by a doctor. Can’t wait till four o’clock. It is far too early now, and I’m still going to be thirty minutes late, I’ve been going to work thirty minutes late for the last week or so.
A man comes to wait for the bus by my side, and I start hearing an intermittent buzz. He looks oddly similar to my father. He moves quickly to the other side of the road and then I swear that he tries to tell me something. The sound gets higher, must be some construction site behind me. My cigarette is half done, I look back up at the man and he is gone. But from his general direction comes a girl shouting out what might be my name, cannot hear over the annoying noise. It’s my girlfriend, with the gym bag under her arm; she crosses the street quite quickly and hands it to me. I try to speak to her over the noise of the machines “You, know, you didn’t have to come all the way here,” I have to end up screaming, “I can take care of these things myself, I don’t need to be cared after, I don’t need a mother.” Then she smiles that smile that I love so much and gives me a kiss, then she tries to unbuckle my pants but I shove her to the road the bus runs her over and I wake up, sweating, letting out a bland scream.
1 comment:
The confusion in this and general sense of dreamy unreality works well. Although I'm a bit suspicious of the 'and then it was just a dream' format. It's a little bit of a let-down for the reader and a let-off for the writer, generally.
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