Crossed
No harm was intended. But their paths crossed.
It was just a normal night, no colder than any other night. He probably shouldn’t be out at all, with the work piling at his desk.
He had a long day of fruitless discussion with other people in the day but there was nothing he enjoyed more a sinful waste of time with himself. It was not long before he has to fulfill his basic need. On hindsight it seemed like a hastily made decision, if he ever made one. It seemed like a bad idea, if he ever had one. He took off from his desk with his jacket and left the room.
She, too, had a long day at work and the rain didn’t make it any easier. She was caught outside when it rained and she couldn’t get under a shelter fast enough. Not that she would seek shelter if there was one nearby. She was used to being drenched anyway.
To her, rain occurred for some reason too profound for her and she simply accepts it as part of life. She was someone who did what she had to do, rain or shine, unfazed by any difficulties.
Although she was not welcomed at some places because of her nature and sometimes because of her looks, it didn’t bother her. And she would be oblivious the rat race and dog-eat-dog madness that happened around her. All she wanted was to get on with her life at her own pace.
It is a need, but at that time, it was probably a want. It manifests itself as a form of escape from the drudgery of work. He was a carefully person, sometimes too careful for his own good, but he survived anyhow. As he walked down the stairs, the steady, regular steps he took cleared his mind. He made minimal noise. It was dark and no one could see him. It was particularly liberating, to the extent of being detached from the world, for him, to be unseen, to be unheard. Nothing could go wrong, he thought.
Her burden was heavy. Maybe she should have set off early, maybe she should have set off late. The timing was just dead wrong. She probably knew of the danger and there wasn’t anything that could make her stay there longer than necessary but fate has played a cruel way of ending things. She wasn’t able to help or save herself in anyway.
They never had a look at each other. Their path crossed; one on top of another. Her world came crushing down. The cracking sound was deafening and painful to her. At the same time, it was trivially muted to him. It was only when he knew what he has done; he could hear the silent quiver of his heart, sinking deeper into emptiness and coldness
The mess that was the snail was washed away by the merciless rain the next day. All that was remained was the shudder in the heart.
It was just a normal night, no colder than any other night. He probably shouldn’t be out at all, with the work piling at his desk.
He had a long day of fruitless discussion with other people in the day but there was nothing he enjoyed more a sinful waste of time with himself. It was not long before he has to fulfill his basic need. On hindsight it seemed like a hastily made decision, if he ever made one. It seemed like a bad idea, if he ever had one. He took off from his desk with his jacket and left the room.
She, too, had a long day at work and the rain didn’t make it any easier. She was caught outside when it rained and she couldn’t get under a shelter fast enough. Not that she would seek shelter if there was one nearby. She was used to being drenched anyway.
To her, rain occurred for some reason too profound for her and she simply accepts it as part of life. She was someone who did what she had to do, rain or shine, unfazed by any difficulties.
Although she was not welcomed at some places because of her nature and sometimes because of her looks, it didn’t bother her. And she would be oblivious the rat race and dog-eat-dog madness that happened around her. All she wanted was to get on with her life at her own pace.
It is a need, but at that time, it was probably a want. It manifests itself as a form of escape from the drudgery of work. He was a carefully person, sometimes too careful for his own good, but he survived anyhow. As he walked down the stairs, the steady, regular steps he took cleared his mind. He made minimal noise. It was dark and no one could see him. It was particularly liberating, to the extent of being detached from the world, for him, to be unseen, to be unheard. Nothing could go wrong, he thought.
Her burden was heavy. Maybe she should have set off early, maybe she should have set off late. The timing was just dead wrong. She probably knew of the danger and there wasn’t anything that could make her stay there longer than necessary but fate has played a cruel way of ending things. She wasn’t able to help or save herself in anyway.
They never had a look at each other. Their path crossed; one on top of another. Her world came crushing down. The cracking sound was deafening and painful to her. At the same time, it was trivially muted to him. It was only when he knew what he has done; he could hear the silent quiver of his heart, sinking deeper into emptiness and coldness
The mess that was the snail was washed away by the merciless rain the next day. All that was remained was the shudder in the heart.
posted by darren at
11:33 pm
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