Thursday, 31 March 2016

Story #219 - Lunch break conversation (end)

It's been over an hour and nobody has come out; nobody rang my phone or come in, either.
I wonder what the heck they're doing. Oh, it was supposed to be a regular day that was spoiled by my mouth. Though I have this moody-bullshit feeling right now, I also notice that my stomach is making "Hello" noises. The sign of starvation. How I loathe thee, hunger...
The E.R. light switched off. The door knob flinched, then went down. The space was filled with lively light from inside the closed space. A doctor with a mask on took a couple of steps out, scraped the paper-thin thing off his face and basked in fresh air to his lungs' content.
I decided to approach.
"Excuse me. Did you operate on a girl by any chance?"
"Is she going to be okay?"
"I'm afraid not."
"Her body had been in a state of decay for a long time, based on her organs. Even though we tried our damnedest, there was nothing we could do."
"Can't be..."
"Sorry, kid. I know it must be hard to believe. I'm really sorry."
I don't remember what happened afterwards, but the only thing I could think about was 'From a shitty ketchup-fused chip, huh?' and that made me mad, and teary eyed, too.

Wednesday, 30 March 2016

Story #218 - Lunch break conversation (part 16)

I decided to walk to the hospital. In the fifteen minutes that it took, I waited for a call, but it didn't come.
A tad disappointed, I went in the facility and approached the desk.
"Excuse me. A girl arrived here about twenty minutes ago, by the ambulance. Do you know where she might be?"
"Do you know her name?" The secretary, a plump lady with an apple in her left hand, that she munched from as I stepped inside.
"That's the problem. Nobody knows her real name. She gave a nickname to call her."
"What is it?"
"Purple Rain."
She's staring at me like I said something weird. "There was a girl that came in earlier, but you'll have to tell me how she looked like."
"Brown hair, a black jacket, and yellow trousers."
"Okay. She...was taken into E.R., so you can't go in there, but the waiting room is at the end of the corridor to your left."
"E.R.? Crap." I scratch my head as my eyes evade hers, then I look back and notice she's still looking at me. "Thank you." I bounce away from her, straight to the aforementioned area. Now If only someone would call me, or their parents, it would be great.

Tuesday, 29 March 2016

Story #217 - Lunch break conversation (part 15)

I didn't know what else to do, so I left the pub and went on my way towards the hospital.
The sun was still high at this hour, with no cloud in sight. 'Some shades would be useful.' I thought as I placed my hand in my trouser pocket. It started moving by itself, vibrating even. 'What the... Oh, right, phone.'
Curious to see who it was, I took out fast enough to hit the seam and drop the sucker on the pavement.
'Great! Cracked screen.' Then I press the button. "Hello?"
"You know, it was unfair of me to go all out and make your life miserable."
"And saying sorry right now is kinda late, maybe pointless, but still, I'm sorry."
"Uh-huh. Somebody put you up to this?"
"I wouldn't think you'd say those words."
"I shouldn't, but I figured you suffered a lot."
"I did. Do you by any chance remember the girl that grabbed me in the cafeteria?"
"Kinda. Why?"
"Know her name?"
"No. I probably have heard of her if I'll think hard, but it's not someone I've come in contact with before."
"She's in the hospital. I needed her name to call her folks."
"Wh-wh-wh-what did you do, you idiot?"
"Nothing. She ate a chip with ketchup and fell ill."
"You know I wouldn't hit a girl."
"Not with your limbs."
"Funny. If you've got nothing else to say, I'm hanging up."
"Where is she?"
"At the hospital."
"I mean which one."
"Err...the local one."
She closed the call. Weirdo.

Monday, 28 March 2016

Story #216 - Lunch break conversation (part 14)

"Hello. This is-"
"I know. Ms. Jackson. It's me, Jeff. There's a situation."
"Oh, Jeffrey, what did you end up doing now?"
"Nothing really. Do you know about what happened this morning?"
"I've heard stories."
"A girl I've never seen before saved from that situation, and I need to call her parents. The problem is I don't know her exact name. She said it's Purple Rain."
"I think you have been daydreaming things."
"How could I when I left school at noon?"
"You know it's not good to skip classes."
"Yes, I know that, Ms. Jackson. But this is serious."
"How should I find out who she is? Perhaps scour an old vinyl of Woodstock?"
"Well...uh...if I describe her, can that work?"
"Sure. If you tell me her breast and waist size, I'm sure I can put an ad out. If you're that lonely, you can always come by my desk, darlin'."
"Ms. Jackson!"
"Look, Jeff. What do you want me to believe? A girl by the name of Purple Rain saved you during lunch?"
"Yes. Can't you check the cameras to see how she looks like?"
"I could, but recognizing her is a different matter."
"That would be great if you tried. I'd owe you one."
"The fun I'll have with-"
"Yes, yes, I'm sure. Goodbye, Ms. Jackson."
God. She's older than my mom, but way hotter... The hell am I thinking? Get it together. What should I do next?

Sunday, 27 March 2016

Story #215 - Lunch break conversation (part 13)

I stare at her as she's in my arms, wondering what I could possibly say when she'd wake up. I keep looking at her lips. 'Crap' I think I'm one of those guys that falls for girls who show them a little interest or emotion, and I don't know if that's such a good idea.
Upon leaving the stall, I hear the ambulance's siren. 'Bloody fast.' Which is a great thing.
I place her on a booth, and hold her head a little higher than her body. I have no idea what to else to do right now.
A minute later, two paramedics barge in the place; a male and a female. The female comes over.
"Thanks. I'll take it from here." I let go of her head and go back.
Instead of looking at what they're doing, I casually waltz to the bar counter and help myself with some of the tap water that was on display. I can't help but feel that I'm getting weird looks right now. Can't say that I blame them, if it is the case.
The paramedics are talking amongst themselves, and the male leaves, only to return with the stretcher.
"Does anybody know her name, or her family?" The female says.
"I go to school with her, but I don't really know much."
"Can you call her parents?"
"No, but I can call the school to find out. Or maybe she has her parents in her phone."
She checks Purple Rain's pockets. "Nothing."
"Okay. I'll call school. Are you going to the local hospital?" She nods.
While they're busy placing my colleague on the stretcher, I wonder how the hell am I going to find out her real name since I only know her nickname. Hmm...

Saturday, 26 March 2016

Story #214 - Lunch break conversation (part 12)

"Hey," I say to the bartender. "Do you have a female colleague working right now?"
"No... Why?"
"Oh, my friend tried to eat one of your fries, and dashed right to the loo. I wanted to know how she's feeling."
"Really? I hope it's nothing serious."
"I hope so, too."
"There are no other customers, and if you would like, you can go in and check."
I can't believe he said that. It's true it's the only option, but still. Wasn't this day supposed to be alright? If only I hadn't pissed of Sarah. Me and my stupid tongue. 
"I suppose I could-" A sound came from the ladies'. We looked at one another, then ventured towards there. 
"It was harsh, wasn't it?" He said on the way. I nodded.
We stopped at the door. I didn't know what to do. He might have noticed, and decided to knock. "Are you okay in there?" No reply. He knocked again. Nothing. He looked at me. "Do you want to go in or should I?"
"I'll...I'll go." Why the heck was I trembling? 
I open the door, not too fast, not too slow, and peak. Because I'm a moron. She's on the floor, not moving, fully clothed. I turn back and look at the bartender. "We might need an ambulance." 
He glances at me, then barges in the loo. I see the situation from the doorway as he check up on her. 
"You're right." He leaves Purple Rain and goes right past me. I go to her and pick her up. 'She's lighter than I thought.'

Friday, 25 March 2016

Story #213 - Lunch break conversation (part 11)

Of all the places we could find to eat, we had to come across a ditzy little bar that served only fries, burgers, and ice cream. And they were all outta burgers.
"How can you be out of your main meal?" I say to the barman.
"We've had a private party yesterday and they cleared us out of everything."
"Wow. Hungry people, huh?" Purple Rain said.
"Not really. Even though they bought everything, they left a lot behind, and that had to be thrown out."
"Damn." I turn to her. "Well, what do you want to do?"
"Fries are better than nothing."

Twenty minutes later we had our two sides of cut potatoes, plastered in oil, some more burnt than others. She grabs the first one, dips it into the ketchup we had on the table, but not a little bit of red sauce, more like two thirds of the sucker, and throws it in her mouth. A spectacle in itself.
Now if only she wouldn't have spit it out and ran straight the toilet, we might have had a decent afternoon. 

Thursday, 24 March 2016

Story #212 - Lunch break conversation (part 10)

'This is so tedious. I wonder if this is how dog lovers feel when they have to pick up their pet's crap, but probably less smelly and squishy.' The thoughts that go through my mind while I'm cutting grass with a stupid scissor.
"That's should do."
"Fantastic. What are we going to do next?"
"Find the needle in the haystack."
She's not smiling as she always does. Maybe she's tired? Bored? Probably Purple Rain does indeed like these menial chores. she a rich girl trying to see the hard life of the poor?
"Where are going to do that?"
"The haystack."
"Are you okay?" She approaches me and puts her backhand on my forehead. "You seem fine."
"Why'd you think I'd have a fever?"
"Because you haven't given me one of your remarks about the needle. I was expecting a complain, a cry, something. Oh, gosh, I broke you. I'm sorry."
She grabs my palm into hers and stares me in the eyes. I feel that she'll start crying anytime soon. 'Is this like a dream day or something? Going from bad to decent to bad? I'd better tell her...'
"I'm fine. I figured that you were joking about the grass, but that was true. Now I'm more leery when it comes to what we'll be doing, and I'll be taking them at face value."
There's silence now. I hear a growl. We both look down at her belly, then we get our eyes check each other out again.
"Guess that's our next stop," she quipped, giving me her smile once more. I could stare at it all week and not get hungry.

Wednesday, 23 March 2016

Story #211 - Lunch break conversation (part 9)

"Are we gonna go for a run?" I say, surprised at us arriving at a park of all places.
"No. You'll see."
"Surprise, right."
I look around and notice how there aren't many trees, although the area is huge. As we're walking, I see no other people, but I also see no places to hide, other than some small bushes where you'd have to be crawled to not be observed.
"Okay. This is it."
Huh? "Are we picnicking?"
"No, silly, we're going to cut the grass."
Err... "What? With what? And it looks just fine to me."
"I have scissors in my backpack. Two of them."
"Is this your job or something?"
"You could say that."
That means it's not? I'm confused. I thought we were going to have fun, not work.
While I'm glancing at an empty space in the grass, she hands me a pair of scissors.
"You weren't kidding when you said scissors. I thought you forgot the word for shears, but no."
"It's more enjoyable like this."
If looks could hit, mine would smack her.
"We'll only do this for half an hour. Here's a bag for the tips."
"Grass tips."

Tuesday, 22 March 2016

Story #210 - Lunch break conversation (part 8)

"We've been walking fast, but you haven't said where we're going."
"It's a secret," Purple Rain says, giving me her nonchalant smile.
"Oh." I lose a beat for a few paces.
"You don't like surprises?" She notices.
"I won't say no. I was simply curious."
Silence spreads as I made it awkward. Figures. I'm good at that.

My phone buzzes. I take it out of my jacket and see the message. "You have been walking for an hour. You have passed today's goal. Good job." It makes me smile. No other notifications. I put it back in.
"I didn't realize we've been moving for so long."
"How long?" Our first bit of conversation since then.
"Over an hour."
"Really? Feels like ten minutes."
I check my watch. More like half an hour. I forgot that the app checks every step.
"Do you like walking?"
"I do. I walk every day from my place to school, and back. And town, too."
"How long does that take?"
"About an hour each way. The walks into town differ, but at least forty minutes."
Geez. "Isn't it easier to take the bus or something?"
"Definitely, but the easy way isn't always for me."
"Although it's the fastest in this situation."
"I like to exercise, and since I spend in school over half a dozen hours, I might as well find some means of workout."
Guess I didn't see it like that.
"Speaking of which, we're here."
A park?

Monday, 21 March 2016

Story #209 - Lunch break conversation (part 7)

I arrive at the library in due time. still upset about what happened in class. "I don't know if I can talk to Sarah anymore," goes through my head as I try to imagine what a future conversation with her might be like.
"Hey," I hear from behind me. I turn around to see her. "Looking grumpy I see." I'm actually relieved, but I can't take that on my face right away.
"Yeah, well, they made a stupid joke."
"Don't let it bother you."
"By the way, I haven't asked your name."
"Do we really need names? Let's just use codes instead." She smiles at me as my eyebrows rise.
"What kind of codes?"
"Like..." she goes in deep thought about this. You'd figure one would ask the other about their name at some point, so she should've been prepared; at least what I think. "Purple Rain and White Room."
I stop. I look at her with my right eyebrow raised and my left one lowered. "Are those some kind of hippy names?"
"Hahaha. They're from some songs. Old songs. Maybe those guys were hippies, I don't know. I don't care."
"I see. Which one am I?"
"White Room."
"Any special meaning behind it?"
"Maybe, but I'm not telling you just yet."
"Oh, come on."
"No, no. Now let's carry on, or we'll be late."
"I didn't know we had a schedule."
"We do. I have planned all sorts of things for us today," she pauses to look into my eyes. "Tonight included."
"Is this a pity thing?" Flashes through my head. "Maybe she's from a cult. Oh, hell. Suppose I'll get brainwashed later. Or it might be my last day to see people alive... God the kind of stuff that goes through my head is enough to make others put themselves in therapy."

Sunday, 20 March 2016

Story #208 - Lunch break conversation (part 6)

Still embraced, she whispers in my ear. "I wouldn't have minded if you would have kissed me."
My eyes freeze and my arms shudder; my fingers start tapping on her back. "I didn't mean to make you more stressed." She giggles, then lunges her face away from mine. "Are you fine now?"
I smile. I think.
"Anything planed for today?"
I imagine various answers to this question in my head, from long-winded ones to a simple "No," which should have been the one to say, yet I use this one. "I was thinking of going out. Don't know where. But that may have changed now."
"Yeah. You have class this hour."
"I can not go. I'm a free man." She laughs.
"Okay. I'll meet you outside by the library in five minutes."
With that being said, we departed, me baring my not so bright teeth at her, as she hid hers in a cute way.
I walked down the corridors until I reached my class. One step inside and there was dead silence. Eyeballs projected themselves like laser against my flesh, wanting to seep a hole through my still toasted ass. I acted like I didn't care and went for my bag.
There was a drawing on my desk. A crude drawing with a naked version of me and the chubby lunch lady. Above it was written "Fatty fucker". I stared at it a little bit, hearing giggles as a result, then I grabbed my stuff and left.
I wanted to punch somebody, Sarah more than anyone, but I have to let go of that anger if I am to enjoy what this girl will have in store. Speaking of which, I don't know her name.

Saturday, 19 March 2016

Story #207 - Lunch break conversation (part 5)

"Why did you do that to me?" I say, still guided by the hand.
"Huh? You mean why I took you away?" Her voice arrived, soft as an otter's fur.
"Yeah. You're not laughing like the rest of them."
"I had the initial giggle because I didn't know what was going on. I thought it was something rehearsed, so normally, you laugh. But then I saw your reaction and figured she was just being crude."
"Sarah was, although I said something stupid and got her mad. She kinda went overboard."
"What did you say?"
At this point, we were quite far from the scene of the crime. After she spoke those words, she let go of my hand, then turned to look at me. I still had the remains of a stream on my face as it continued to glance at the floor.
She pressed her curved pointer finger under my chin and lifted it.
Our eyes met; hers were sparkling.
"I...I...I...I..." I sounded like a broken record once I flurried my view over her figure.
"That's okay. I can tell you're sorry." She drove her pointer over my cheek, shoveled gently part of the river, enough to create a small ditch, and pressed it over hers. "Now we can be tear friends." She closed her eyes, inched her head forward and to the side, and smiled something so innocent you'd wonder if she was a late teenager or a toddler. I almost became flushed again, but I decided to keep it in; instead, I drove my lips into her right cheek as I hugged her.

Friday, 18 March 2016

Story #206 - Lunch break conversation (part 4)

All the people are looking at our direction. At her, not me, and that's a good thing. Depends on what she'll say.
"This guy," Sarah says as she points her finger at me, "fantasizes about the lunch ladies all the time. But he's too shy to ask them out."
A ladle falls on the floor, silencing those words.
There was a brief period where you could hear birds chirping outside, then parrots started diddling inside. A flurry of squawks commenced, loud as an echo in a church.
My head lowered itself. My feet showed signs of trepidation along with my fingers.
"She said something untrue," flowed through my head amid this panic, "but it was more damaging than anything right."
Sarah hooked my nose in between her pointer and middle fingers and raised it so she could see my eyes.
I could see her devilish smile while water plummeted down my chin. She unhooked me and my head fell flat on the side of the table.
"My life is officially ruined."
Then she grabbed my hand and dragged me away from there. I figured it was Sarah at first, yet her skin felt different.

Thursday, 17 March 2016

Story #205 - Lunch break conversation (part 3)

Whilst I'm still looking like a scared kitten about to be put in a cage, and with no hopes of someone coming to my rescue, I see Sarah bring her head closer to mine. Scratch that. Make it in front of my face.
I feel the pulsating nostrils puffing over my lips, who have gone from having a little life in them to looking like they've been in the freezer for an hour. Her eyes want to collide with mine, but who would? I try to look at anything else, and it's so hard. Forehead, hair, nose, right side of face, ear, left side of face, lips, eyebrows...yeah, she can tell I'm shivering. Dammit, Sarah, didn't know you were this threatening.
"You know," she says and touches the tip of my pale nose with her regular sized fingernail, "You say dumb shit at times."
I keep quiet. I probably shed a pound of sweat already.
"And that's what drives me up the wall with you. But also why I hang out with you. If I'd leave you alone, you wouldn't know what to do by yourself. You're not much of a chatter, so no friends from class, yet you talk trash a lot, without warranting it to any extent. I'm not sure if you've been taught a lesson in your life. Have you?"
Crap. What do I do? I blink once. Hopefully she'll let me be.
"You haven't, just as I thought."
"I'll teach you a lesson right now." She stands up on her chair. "Hey, everybody."
And so it starts.

Wednesday, 16 March 2016

Story #204 - Lunch break conversation (part 2)

Sarah had her hand up as I got lost in the shuffle of too many bodies and too few brains.
"Why was that woman upset with you?" She quickly asked when I haven't had the chance to sit down.
"Because I was daydreaming, and that I wasn't sure of my food choice." I replied as I took a seat.
"I'd be, too. You always eat these vegetables. Why don't you try something different?"
"Nothing else to try. Every thing is over cooked or just plain junk. Even these aren't that great, but it is what it is. I should start making my own food."
"But you're too lazy, right?"
"I don't have enough time."
"Sure, sure."
"That's why when I come by your dorm room, you're playing some game."
"I have to relax, you know."
"Making a meal is also relaxing."
"If it's that nice, how about you make me something?"
"Excuse me?"
"You keep telling me to do it, yet you don't do it yourself."
"We don't have that kind of relationship."
"What do you mean so?"
"It'll prepare you for your future husband. Or a boyfriend, whenever that would be."
Now, I probably shouldn't have said the last few things, but the last one took the cake. She looked surprised during our chat, and after I said what I said, she started looking at me with eyes wide open and head tilted to the left side; her nostrils are puffed up, too.
I try to smile and say something; nothing comes out. Her criminal glance doesn't change, either.
Can someone help?

Tuesday, 15 March 2016

Story #203 - Lunch break conversation (part 1)

Ugh. The bell finally sounded, along with my belly. Good thing they were happening at the same time and nobody could hear it.
"Hey, let's go." Sarah said, touching me lightly on my shoulder. Guess she was more eager to eat than me.
I placed my notebook under my desk, along with the pencil, and went after her.
As I caught up, I said "Cafeteria?"
"Where else?" Her answer came right away.
We had several options, but this was the closest and cheapest. Not the best, though. The meals here are almost junk food quality. Regardless, we joined the queue straight away. Plenty of people who like to infect their bodies with this drivel that doesn't do anyone any good in the long-term. I'm not at all surprised with a lack of jocks here. Their coaches must have their meals ready.
As I was day-dreaming about edible stuff, unknowingly, it had become my turn.
"Hello?" A voice crept up from my right side. "Hey, if you don't want anything, don't stand in line."
I blink a couple of times, then I turn to face the lady. Overweight, net hair, blue latex gloves, dirty apron. Pretty much like any other unhealthy person that serves this pish-posh. "Umm...I'd like..." I look through the window, hoping something new has arrived, but no such luck. "Steamed veg, please."
"As you always do," she sighs. "And you always dream when you're here."
"Save it." I almost want to ask her what her problem is, then she hands me the plate with boiled plants and I go about my way.

Monday, 14 March 2016

Story #202 - Stuck in a phone

I hate travelling by bus. It takes a long time. Too long. The longest.
But there's one thing that's good about these trips. You can see the sights.
Tall trees, small trees, stocky ones or stubs. Green, red, yellow, leafy or still, you can see them all.
See the hills, the bushes, the ditches, and the animals. Those lively creatures that aren't stuck cages, and are enjoying their lives. For a while, at least.
As I'm looking around the bus to see if there are any interesting people, I see this guy staring into his phone. Of all the things to do, your phone should be the least important right now. When you have nature, why is that piece of technology you use all the time used here, too?
Why don't you give it a rest for a while. Look outside, it's a beautiful world. Guess it's not worth it when you can see what you like on your phone. Sure, you can't smell, but watching it so close gives it a different dimension than what you'd get from a regular screen, no matter the zoom.
Oh, if only people would look outside once in a while, instead of glancing at pixels, maybe our world would be better.

Sunday, 13 March 2016

Story #201 - Nagging

"Do it."
"What're you, my mom? Even if she were to say it, I still wouldn't do it."
"Come on, do it. Do something for once."

Don't you just hate it when you know one of these people? They're all up in your case and the only thing you want to do is to deck them.
Sometimes they have their purpose, sure, but their nagging, utter nagging, drives me bonkers.
They think they're helping when you don't want it, then they're the ones upset when you tell them to go away. I mean, really?
They've probably seen too many high school sports movies and decided to coach someone near their life, without actually enrolling that person into anything in particular.

Saturday, 12 March 2016

Story #200 - Waiting to dance

As with anything in life, you get excited with something. When you go there and do it, it feels rather weird. You don't know what to do. "Should I join in?", "Should I watch?" "Nobody will dance with me."
I had those same thoughts, and I decided to watch. It was the safest option. The comfort zone. That such a horrible word. Comfort. Nothing good come out of it.
So I'm sitting there, pinned against the wall, watching people dance a dance I enjoy doing. They're smiling and laughing as they're doing rambunctious moves; heck even the basic ones are bringing them joy.
However, I'm not the only one in my predicament; that would've been weird to me, too. Plenty of guys and gals waiting on the sidelines to have a go at it. I don't blame the girls, they're waiting for the man to show up, and here they are, loitering like a pack of bums chain smoking on the last one they could afford.
I suppose some of them are shy, some others lack confidence, or don't want to embarrass themselves. It's normal. Heck, I'd go out there to do it, but I'm waiting for the song to change. And I've been saying that for the past five.
On the side, I see cute ones, not so cute ones, and I don't care. I'll dance. This is not the prom or some fancy schmancy date night. This is dance class where you can stay and do just that, you can sit on the sidelines for the whole evening, or you can pack up and go. I feel I made a big mistake coming here if I'm like this...
Oh, the song changed. And I'm still rooted to the brick wall. I can't change. I'm so annoyed at-
"Hey, would you like to dance?"
"Sure." I say after I spend a few seconds analyzing if she's talking to me or not.
Gulp. I hope I won't make it awkward.

Friday, 11 March 2016

Story #199 - Binge Drinking

I love drinking. I love it so much that I go out every night and stay until the pub closes.
As you can imagine, that costs some money. I spend about 500 pounds a week, which isn't a lot on my wage.
However, it takes it's toll on my body. I'm fine the next morning, but my eyes start going more and more inside the cave and it looks like I'm not keeping them open. My circles look like they're forming eyes of their own, with eyelids and everything. I find it hysterical. My colleagues do not.
But that's not my biggest problem.
I fell one early morning and I started throwing up. I couldn't get up, or on my knees. I had my head tilted to the right side everything came pouring out, like a faucet that has the handle broken and the only way to stop it is to turn it off from the main valve. Only I didn't have one.
As I was flooding the street, I heard the ambulance arrive. That stupid blue light flashed right on my eyes; both real and fake. Next thing I know my body was surrounded by boots. I could hear their voices, but it was obvious that I couldn't speak.
Two guys grabbed and lifted me by the arms, and I continued gushing. They brought a bloody bucket. If I wasn't so sick I would've laughed.
I passed out afterwards since I don't remember anything else apart from me waking up in the hospital with a couple of wires plugged in my left arm, in a dark room, with a particular stench coming from underneath the duvet that covered me. It was fart; somehow it was nice, like when you grab a fresh bread that you see its hot air bubbling out and you break it in half and sniff that vapid stuff until you smile and relax. Don't look at me like that. I'm sure you do it, too.
Nurse arrives and tells me that I have a liver problem, so I have to stop with the alcohol. I'll also be detained in here for at least a few days.
I told her it'd get boring fast. She said she has board games.

Thursday, 10 March 2016

Story #198 - Dancing mirage

"Have you ever seen the perfect dance?"
"There is no such thing."
"There is, and I've seen it."
"Yeah? Show it to me."
"I won't do it justice."
"Doesn't matter."
"You move like this, and like this, then like this, and put yourself like this."
"You do realize that I'm not seeing anything, only hearing 'like this' a bunch of times, right?"
"Are you not?"
"Are you not entertained?"
"Hell no."
"That's quite disappointing."
"So was your dance."
"I told you I won't do it justice."
"You didn't do anything."
"I did."
"You talked thinking I could somehow visualize a sequence I haven't witnessed."
"Well, yeah."
"On what planet does that work?"
"You jealous?"
"I am. Now go pester someone else. I'm hungry."
"I'll join you."
"I need to stay away from you for at least an hour. It was too much."
"I was too much?"
"Your moves derailed my balance."
"You said you didn't see any moves?"
"I'm having mirages now."

Wednesday, 9 March 2016

Story #197 - Stuck in the shadows

Life has never been easy on me. I don't remember much of my early years, as I feel I woke up at the ripe old age of seven.
Whenever I ask my family, they say that I was a child like any other, smiling, laughing, eating a lot. I have never, not once, heard them talk about me going out and having fun with friends. Looking at myself in the mirror every day, I can see why.
I think the first time I did that I stopped smiling.
I'm nine now. I haven't been outside since. Not even for flu shots, doctor check-ups, school. Not to mention walks in the park, grocery shopping, or to some show, like a movie or the circus. I couldn't. My parents kept begging me to do it, but I said no, and that was that.
Instead, I'd look out the window. I'd feel the fresh air pouring its gusts my way, as if it's inviting me to join it, to join the other children laughing and giggling and playing, to go out there and be smothered by the rays of sunshine.
Yet, I can't. I just can't.
I have this bad feeling that I will be laughed at. Or be pitied, which would be worse.
And I shouldn't feel like this. Maybe I am seeking something bad to happen and if it would I'd be crumbled to pieces.
Until that time comes, until I convince myself that I can go and lead a life as normal as I could under my conditions, I'll have to be confined here, in this dinky room, complaining about my lack of legs.

Tuesday, 8 March 2016

Story #196 - Running

The first step.
The first gust of air.
The first taste of saliva.
The first smile.

Freedom is often said
to be based on where you live,
but how you do it is more important.

Running is one of the few
forms that makes people equal.
It brings togetherness, joy,
unity, and sustainability.

Whether you're on the verge
of collapsing or winning,
there will be someone there
clapping, shouting, pushing you
onward and onward,
until you finish and get
that fist raised in the air.
The fist of a champion.

Bored at home or work?
Just go for it.
Somebody annoyed you?
Just sprint it.
Wanna punch someone?
Run with you jaw clenched.
If it won't make you smile,
it might make others.

The moment you hit the pavement
and start shuffling as your sweat grows,
as you're breathing faster and faster,
as you're wanting this more and more.

You're smiling at the person you like
in a different way to this.
This is that smile of something
that's only inside you.

Monday, 7 March 2016

Story #195 - Indoors

You should go out,
Let's go out,
You have to go out,
Let's get some air.

People keep saying that,
and they have a point,
but what they usually mean
is entirely different.

We go from our homes
to pubs, restaurants,
theatres, operas,
art galleries, museums,
concert halls and sports venues.

We don't just go out,
we go out to go in.

When we get drunk
we go indoors.
When we get high
we go indoors.

We see doctors indoors.
We see to-buy pets indoors.
We see musicians, artists,
comedians and athletes indoors.

What's not indoors
is looked at as if it's a
crazy thing, an indie thing,
a "what's that?" sort of a thing.

We are indoorsy people,
and that's okay.
After all, most of us are
born indoors.

But could you please
stop saying
"Let's go out"
when you're referring to

*I know. Some of the stuff I wrote happens outdoors, too, but it doesn't happen every day. And it's mostly a special event.

Sunday, 6 March 2016

Story #194 - Deadline

Tick tock,
you have a deadline,
click clock
you'd rather do
anything but.

Read a newspaper,
watch a movie,
go walking,
play a game.

Check random sites,
see a match,
start running,
jump rope.

Pretend babies
are cute.
Eat crisps,
Looking at
paint drying.

as you're in the last
possible safe limit,
you start crunching
and somehow,
you manage to achieve
the task.

blessing in disguise
or devil in waiting?

Saturday, 5 March 2016

Story #193 - Humorless? (poem)

Looking back
into time,
you notice how
things have changed.

Some would say
for the better,
but is it really?

Once upon a time,
there were cartoons 
where the character shouted
"Let's kill the wabbit!
Let's kill the wabbit!"

That was funny, 
and hilarious,
and over the top.
And you laughed.
You still do.

Now you have guy 
saying in a movie
"That rabbit would
look good on the grill."
And it's not as nice.
In fact, it's quite bad.

We have grown
stale, boring, and sad.
Our humor has shifted
from jokes and gags
to ironic, sarcastic, pedantic

We've broken down walls
and put borders instead.
We've uncuffed ourselves
only to put chains instead.
Are we really going forward?
Or more to the side?

Friday, 4 March 2016

Story #192 - Waking up (poem)

You wake up,
but you don't want to.
You check your watch,
and wish you hadn't.

You close your eyes.
Nothing happens.
You open them,
and your belly flutters.

You press it down,
trying to stomp it,
trying to overcome these
feelings, emotions, sentiments,
that come out of nowhere.
Or do they?

Don't they exist solely
in your head?
Don't they manipulate you
by their own will
and then laugh at you
as you're down?

That's when you want
to do all those
unspeakable things...

But some days
it's better to wake up,
to open your eyes wide,
smile, and say:
"Hey, I'm okay.
Today's gonna be great."

As long as you can smile,
and somehow make it
into a laugh, or a giggle,
you know, something joyous,
you will have a great day.

Thursday, 3 March 2016

Story #191 - Steps (poem)

We all take steps.
Some take big, huge steps.
Others take small, tiny ones. 
So small that you can't see them move.
Yet so big that it impacts them plenty.

Go up a wall,
Down a stream, 
Over a boulder,
Under a car.

Watch the magpies walk,
And think it's royal.
Glance as the snail scutters
Then stop when you touch it.

Everybody's going about.
In their rooms, bathrooms,
kitchens, showers, 
beds, couches, and mattresses.

In class, on benches, on books,
over others, over toddlers, 
over daughters, over teachers,
over bullies, and borders.

Where would we be without them?

Wednesday, 2 March 2016

Story #190 - Snowball (poem)

along with winter,
comes once a year.

Depends on
where you live,
how you live,
and who you live it with.

And the day
when the whiteness
sheds its skin
on the gravel, dirt,
metal, and rubber
is a day of distinct emotion.

You will feel sad,
but remember that
you were glad
when you were a kid.
And wonder what the
heck happened.

You decide to relive
those carefree years
and go outside
with galoshes on.

There's just enough
to make a small snowball;
if you had a cone,
it would fit nicely.

As you handle the fuzz gently,
you try it with all your might,
only it doesn't land.
it simply vanishes,
like it never existed.

"Was there ever a point B?"
You say to yourself.

Tuesday, 1 March 2016

Story #189 - Lethargy

I hate travelling. I can see why others enjoy it, but it's not for me. The packing, the road to the transport, but most importantly, the time spent in the transport.
Long hours, mildly comfy chairs with cramped space for your legs, and noisy people. But let's get them one at a time.
It takes quite some time for you to reach point B, and when you do, you feel exhausted, even though you didn't do anything that would contribute to that.
The chairs are alright, yet you know that if you spend too much time on them your ass gets flat and numb and saggy. Not to mention your legs, who stay bent the whole time, and unless you're a small child, it hurts like a mofo once you start moving. Feels like your muscles have atrophied as you limp your sorry behind outside, then you start doing stretches to get the blood flow back.
Getting back to the third part, the noise. That's bound to happen. And it's great that you can listen to music so others won't bother you. Of course, there's bound to be a few chatty types here and there. And there's nothing wrong with that, though sometimes you don't feel in the mood.
As a brucie bonus, there's the moment where, even though you were perky, minutes after your transport leaves, you feel your energy sucked out of you and there's nothing much your body can do but hibernate. And that sucks.