Saturday, June 23, 2007

My dreams begin to fade as I linger listlessly through this deserted town. The streets are all empty and a doleful breeze blows gently singing a dirge for faces long forgotten and memories long lost. The trees seem bent with an eternal grief and I could hear the silent, moaning whisper of the leaves as Beauty slowly dissolves, like sugar in the rain.

Friday, June 22, 2007

A day in a Coffee House

Darkness falls and colors begin to fade. A low, faint light illuminates the coffee house, anonymous and unknown in this nameless town where dreams die as soon as they are born. The not-so-hot-not-so-cold coffee slowly brews as I rummage through my worn out copy of Ulysses.

Come up Kinch. Come up you fearful Jesuit

Yes thats better. The half-ajar door opens with a silent creaking sound and a man with a long drawn face slowly enters and occupies a lonely seat in a secluded corner.

In the bright silent instant Stephen saw his own image in cheap dusty mourning between their grey attires....

The man's cell phone suddenly rings.

"Yes honey I'm speaking."

"Yes I know."

"I've signed the papers and you can sign them too. They are in our bedroom drawers.”

“I understand.”

“I’ll hang up now….take care….see you someday soon…bye…"

The man’s long drawn face suddenly turns ashen. He clings closer to his black over-coat, taking refuge in its warmth. Joey comes near him, a notebook in hand.

“What would you like to have sir?”

The man looks up and stares at Joey’s plump face for what seems like an eternity. Barely audible, he replies as if words had died somewhere in his throat:

“Nothing. I was just about to leave.”

He slowly gets up and walks to the door. As he passes by me, the fringe of his black coat gently brushes against my skin, and at what seemed, from a distance, tiny pearls trickling down, I saw tears glistening in his eyes. Outside thin drops of rain falls in the darkness. With a deep sigh I return back to my Ulysses. Yes reading, the only true source of oblivion.