(Excerpted from a piece of fiction)
That chilly day in February, as you spoke, I was fading out. My mind was a wandering mendicant. I could not help but marvel that we both were so similarly flaky. As I write this, I want to add in a snowflaky sort of way. Smiling and bemused.
Both gambled so much for that elusive little piece of joy. Gamble, you ask? Any aberration in a risk reward ratio is a gamble. Any debilitating weakness in decision making, surely is a gamble.
Only idiots stake a piece of the sky for a moment of joy. We did that. We always used to laugh and call ourselves "crazy". On that day, as I looked at you, what you were speaking drizzled past me. I though noticing your subtle, yet very beautiful white gold earrings. I felt a surge of immense tenderness for you. The kind of fond drift one feels for a compatriot in war.
Your lips still moving, not a single word registering on me. In that moment, all I was acutely aware - "this is what being alive possibly means" - all along hoping for a homerun, fully aware that we were just moments away from profound ruin.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment