Its a cold quiet night. He doesnt want the conversation to end so he circles around the neighbourhood once more. He ambles home listening to the voice at the other end. The undoubted confident words pierce his ears, their arrows puncture his heart ; his throat is so dry that he cant really voice and vent the consuming poison that doesnt kill but stifles and mutes
His vacant body reaches home ; not numb but numbing and crumbling from inside.
He slowly switches off his cellphone.He wishes to drwon in a pool of alcohol . All that is left of the vodka he fancies is an empty bottle. So he gulps down water instead, cool water that soothes his unnerving nerves.
He slowly switches off his cellphone.He wishes to drwon in a pool of alcohol . All that is left of the vodka he fancies is an empty bottle. So he gulps down water instead, cool water that soothes his unnerving nerves.
He resolves to plunge into the xeroxed notes. But the words on the page seem to be melting.; the ink seems to be melting,dripping like wet paint dripping from a wall. And as the words dribble, he feels the words inching towards his memory only to dangle from a while and finally fall to the floor. Who knew words could thaw?
He lies there on the sofa and lets his thoughts run free. He thinks about his girl and wishes that she was here. He would embrace her and forget about his misery.
But alas!!
The night is sleepless .The eerie slience carries the message of hopelessness;announcing that everthing would not be the same come morning.Whats left to be done , but reluctantly not? The night wont reply so his answer is "maybe..."
He hopes.
The next morning, he is still hoping....
