Sunday, August 7, 2011

A Beautiful Day

He stood tall, wore a jacket over his t-shirt and jeans faded from being worn too much. 


His clothes were nondescript, gray, like an old movie with no sound. He walked down the stairs while pulling out a set of keys from his pocket. A flash of color, a bright yellow key chain dangled.


As he opened the door and inhaled the fresh air, the cold rushed into his lungs, wiping away the last remaining vestiges of sleep. A beautiful morning. A shadow of a smile played on his face, almost not even there. His eyes closed as he remembered those moments past that kept pushing him along. All those moments past.


His eyes opened slowly, reluctant to face the real world. The smile vanished, washed away by pain.All those moments past, now lost.


At least it was still a beautiful morning. It was early, too early for the sun. It was that time between Night and Day, the dark is gone and the sun lies just beyond our sight. You look around and you can see, but its not day yet,rather the entire world lies in the Shadow, and is lit by an ethereal blue light.


He walked to his bike,putting on a pair of shades. As he sat down and turned the key in the ignition, he placed his hand on the throttle. Worn but well maintained, he had restored this 89 model bike to his preference,and it was reassuring to the touch.He had bought it with money he saved up from his first job, which made it even more precious.As he kick started the bike and revved the throttle, the silence ,so deep around him, was broken by the steady throbbing of the 500 cc engine.


He rode out.


The city is still asleep,save for a few. He rode through the scant traffic,to where the concrete gave way to the wet ground,where the buildings were replaced by trees. 


Here,the world was Green.


He opened up the throttle,and the bike replied. The engine roared as he sped past, filling the air with the rhythmic beat of his ride.He changed gears with a satisfying click,and accelerated. The wind whipped around him, as the whistling in his ear turned into a scream.The road melted away...



She stands at the edge of the lake, the fading rays of the sun caught in her hair. The light reflects off the water and shines bright, gently lapping the rocks , and we are surrounded by green fields on all sides. There stands a tree to the side,its branches hanging over the water, its base surrounded by small yellow flowers, and I knew this was a little piece of heaven.

She was still the most beautiful thing there

It is the 14th of March,2011,and I am in love.
As she took in the landscape, I hold her from behind, my arms around her slender waist, and kiss her neck .She places her hand against my cheek before playfully slapping me away. She turns and put her arms around my neck and asks me if I love her. I kissed her nose and tell her that i do, and always will. She pushed me away in mock anger and called me a liar. I smile and shake my head, as she laughs and runs to the bike. It’s a beautiful day.



He slows down, his journey has come to a close.He cuts the engine,and the sudden silence envelops him. He is surrounded by fog,as he tramples through the wild underbrush.He walks to the edge of the water and gazes for a while, his head slightly cocked to the side. The fog hangs over the water, like a haunting presence. It was still dark here.There was a sense of foreboding around this place now.


He walked towards the tree. The flowers are gone now, dead. He stands a few feet away,and pulls the jacket closer around him.He stares at the tree.He is lighting a smoke now,and the ember illuminates his face with a deep orange glow each time he takes a drag. He never looks away.


The sun breaks over the horizon,and slowly the light falls strong, driving the Shadow away. The tree is bathed in the light,and the lake is no longer dark.


He puts out the cigarette,and walks away with his hands in his pockets,only to come again the next day,like so many days past.


The birds are chirping as he reaches his bike.The sun shines bright,and there are green pastures all around him


It's a beautiful day.

7 comments:

  1. incredibly mature and serene...friggin good work...

    ReplyDelete
  2. Dude. I mean. Dude. Holy fuck.
    This projects a sense of far greater skill in writing than other piece of yours thus far.
    This is amazingly awesome. What I like most about it is the similes you use-
    "like an old movie with no sound"
    This is more than just naice.
    This is jizzworthy.

    ReplyDelete
  3. i wrote this to beat Ishmaels ass.

    zing!

    ReplyDelete
  4. And done it you have.
    That is the greatest complement I can give you.

    ReplyDelete