The time passing slowly… a snail of time… approaching the end… move fast my dear. my neurons are dying.. fatigue..blur..aches..mental anguish..bodily pain.. old screen flickering before my eyes.. thoughts racing … who is she.. what is her game… she’s a shroud of mystery.. blinking phone .. Thank you for calling Rogers Fulfillment, This is AMMAR speaking how can I assist you this evening … 5 mins later the box is zapped.. the service is back.. and I’m waiting for the next call.. stress ball – bright yellow – rolling on the desk.. defying the laws of motion, longing to be touched.. yet I stop and focus on another item on the desk.. my pay check.. I am rich.. i can live and save.. you see I want to go to Paris in the summer for a week.. and live among the bohemian clique .. I wanna meet my inner boho there.. I know he is inside of me.. hating the modern world.. longing to the 1800s.. to a cozy cafe.. to a mount blanc.. to clean sheets of paper.. to the sight of a woman’s ankle.. to a faithful muse..
End of shift .. log off.. swipe my card.. grab my coat.. black and grey… a scarf – black as the night.. my lunch box – my bus pass- my headset all with me.. crossing the empty desolate street.. no one there but my soul… Arabic songs playing in my mind.. for some reason a song by Warda called El3yoon Al Sood… two drunkard in rags pass by.. holding a bottle of cheap liquor… look at me .. Cheers bro.. then walk away as fast as they came.. my breathe is flames of snow… frozen air.. misty fog leaving my nostrils with every exhale.. the bus is not there yet… i long to relax on it and read..
Here it comes. a white whale of a bus.. empty .. just me and the driver.. good evening sir.. walk few rows and sit at the exit seat .. the one next to the exit.. the chairs are blue.. padded.. the seat is warm… the heater is in the window frame.. i look at myself in the window..a 5 days stubble.. dark brown eyes look back at me… the left is tinted red… i love my lips.. i am in love with them.. i would love to insure them.. my vanity is my lips lol… I thought should i tell you that?.. would you think I am weird?.. but here I am I wrote that.
The bus is approaching the lake..flood lights are turned off, the park is deserted..empty.. dark..no dogs or cats.. just the spirits of those who long to dance on water under an orange moon.. yes the moon was orange.. cuppery rust orange moon. The bus is shaky.. the road has some potholes in it… Bumpy seats.. ouch my back.. we reach the end of the lake.. the houses are dark.. halloween decoration everywhere.. pumpkins on front yards.. ghosts on stairs… chains of light over windows and garages… tombstones erected in gardens.. trick or treat my beloved specimens…
what happens behind those closed doors is a mystery.. Are they in love… do they fight… share meals in front of the tv set… do they bicker and quarrel… have kids.. or pets who they cherish as kids.. Are they happy? Do they think of those who are less fortunate to own a place ???
The bus stop is approaching.. my bag is in my lap.. i pull the bell… the bus decreases its speed… the coffee shop is next to me.. the workers are closing down,, lights are being turned off… some are out in their olive green uniform.
The bus stops.. the green light above the door is on.. i touch the handle.. it opens.. Good night i wish the lonely driver and walk away