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| Monday, August 23, 2004 |
| Milarepa moment |
“And all these strange thoughts cloud your mind and make you lose all track of time
Wear your heart up on your sleeve, escape to a city where you know every street
And every step of the way let your mood brighten
So keep going now, don’t be frightened.”
- from the song “Horizon” sung by Ashby
She silently opens the large wooden door with as little noise as possible, with fears of waking the man who slumbered on the sofa in a heap of drowsy and boredom. Only a cigarette was desired company at this time when disheartened tears had want to burst. And so she walked off. It was nearing two in the morning and the movie they had been watching now just emitted a buzzing message from the big screen. No comfort could be found in the empty embrace, no substance enough to merit sleep.
Amazing how the suburban street twisted in silence. No chirping sounds or night howls emanated the air. Not even bugs she had long been accustomed to in her insomnia-ridden childhood. Only the moon’s random light guided her to stand far enough in the sidewalk. And then she lit her cigarette.
In between gasps of air, thoughts of severance darted through her vessels like a needle trying to get out. But there it stayed. A reprieve of tears rejected. Then out of nowhere, a loud hissing noise came from straight ahead. What could that be, a snake? Another strange animal maybe? It seemed to echo that whole empty expanse that it was a wonder no one had woken up and rushed out in panic. But she stood her ground even if she was shaking in dread of the black vastness. It could have been just paralyzed in peril. I could die tonight and no one would know, she thought. And then the sounds grew in number. From a number of directions that all seemed aimed at her.
“Now I really should run into the house.” Glance down at the cigarette.
“But then I’d never know what the sounds were. And will always wonder.” So she stood her ground once more.
They didn’t seem to be approaching, but the sounds had grown persistent and rooted on their own points of the perimeter. Then without warning, a tall pallid figure pierced the shadows from across the street that towered several feet above her. By now her heart had reached a pacing frenzy and one step would likely conclude in a tumble on the pavement. “It’s too late to get away even if I run now”, she resigned. A fluid like movement crawled at her feet ready to cover it if not for the slight incline of the sidewalk.
This she looked over, forcing herself to ignore the sound and panic reminiscent of suspense films she had gorged over before. If only there was a soundtrack in real life so we could know if something bad was about to happen. But like in those thrillers we watch, where the climax was faked into your eagerness, cue calm melody. She saw that the liquid was just water. She looked up and squinted with the help of moonlight – the sound was coming from the neighbors sprinklers that automatically turned on at the dead of night. And one spout broke to release a mass of water that created a large, tall fountain of white.
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posted by maldita @ 12:32 AM
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