Walled

Is there anything, anyone

That can touch you

 

For more than a moment

Is there anything, anyone

That will help you

Being able to love?

Joey's - Part II *

Read this if you have missed the first part.

Fell asleep in front of the screen with my head resting comfortably on the keyboard. Now I need a coffee. And a smoke. And her.

Joey's - Part I *

Surfing through the infinities of cyberspace I lost my way. She was sitting in front of Joey's Deli at 217th Main, 160th Cross, smoking,  humming some long forgotten tune when I turned around the corner and spotted her.

A Night Out - Part II

Read this if you have missed the first part.

Staring into the void her sudden disappearance had left me with I recalled us shortly stopping at the riverside: She jumped on a small wall and decided sit on it with her back facing the river and me facing her.

After Work

Glad to have finally reached he slammed the door of his new Suzuki and walked towards the entrance. A tough day at the office with his boss assigning him just another special task to be completed "if possible by the end of tomorrow" was over. He recalled his last performance appraisal discussion and remembered the importance of having a healthy work/life-balance when he suddenly saw her sleeping on the sidewalk - a piece of a cardboard box folded as her pillow.


"She can't be older than eight." he told himself and tried to wake her up as gently as possible

A Night Out - Part I

We turned left, a little bit off the beaten track away from the park towards the river. After she climbed over the fence I realised that her shadow got caught in between the posts while she had already run ahead - not noticing and busy with tackling her hair that got entangled in the breeze.

Coming Home

A glass of chilled orange juice, a bowl of cereals and a freshly brewed coffee can do wonders in the morning. The combination of vitamins, carbs and caffeine has been the only thing that is able to get me running at the beginning of the day. With Bob Sentosa on 102.10FM in the background I put on my coat, grab my laptop, the keys that are lying on the table and make my move. And yeah, ... not to forget to pick up the completely rainwater-soaked newspaper from the doorstep. Just another day.

Again major delays on the interstate - as usual. Why the heck does everyone have to get back home at the same time? Again I'm having this I-knew-it-but-still-wanted-to-give-it-a-shot feeling. I should seriously start thinking about taking the subway. There's a cute brunette chic in an white Altima next to me. She's singing along with the radio, so I try to find the same station, but to no avail. Finally I have reached home and am fiddling in the laptgop case looking for the keys - ah, got them. I insert the doorkey into the lock and turn. It doesn't open. One more time. The key wouldn't turn. I check whether I am using the right key and try again. Nothing. I peep through the kitchen window and realise that nothing appears to be familiar. And still I am sure this is the place I left this morning. I turn right to look at the place where I had put up my name, next to the doorbell. Nothing.




An empty space ...

instead of
Memonji

Remembrance

She was as much part of the little church down the road as the large sky blue cross that was painted across the entrace. Sitting on a small wooden stool on the sidewalk she had known me since early childhood, in fact I cannot recall ever passing by the church without her being there.

Sometimes she was - almost lost - staring into the empy space - sometimes expressively chit chatting with street vendors passing by or just sharing pieces of acient wisdom of a forgotten world with the worshippers coming out of the church.

She always had some caramel or tamarind candies for us whenever we were on on our way back home from school. Later on she understandingly smiled and nodded her head when I was dropping my first girfriend off in the small bylane next to the church. And finally, every morning when I went to office I made it a point to slow down the car, pull down the window and wave my hand, wishing her a good morning - not really realising that it wasn't only only the blue paint of the cross that had faded in time.

Now, she isn't any more and I take the direct way to office.

No more candies,smiles or good mornings.

Hail Mary.