Troubled minutes and dark thoughts (part II)

Thick fog. So thick that it blocked his view of the sky. Or maybe it was just too cloudy up above. Either way he had no way of telling, and it mattered little. The clarity of the sky that is. The fog, however, was the reason why he was awake at an unholy hour. What he was about to do was probably illegal, that fact did not stiff his conscience. Whether or not it was the right thing to do did.

The question of 'how an illegal act can be the correct and moral thing to do?' was what had prevented him from taking action earlier. Now, in the dead of the night, which was pretty dead itself, he was going to commit the crime. No external influenced had cajoled him save his own reason. Which is why there was no turning back, it was going to happen tonight.

It was cold but he walked, he loved the winter smell. Winter smelt different. It felt different. It felt cold, yes but it brought out a side in him that he feared himself. He felt calm, like an ocean with no wind. Steady but deep and dark. The deeper, the darker and more ominous. And the worst part of it all being that he felt no remorse for feeling that way. Just fear.

Darkness is synonymous with evil. The dark lord is evil where as the bright lord, if there ever were any, would be anything but evil. The good in man fears the dark when the evil in him revels in it. The evil in man fears the day, when the good in him longs for it. It is but a cycle of the contrasting natures of man in relation to the nature of the world.

So in winters, when the days are short and the nights are long, it was but natural for him feel the way he did; slightly evil. All his reasonings were tainted by that very nature of him and so he felt that what he was about to do was just. An act of evil motivated by a repercussion for the good. Though reasoning, now, was a thing of the past. He had reasoned and he had decided. And he thought of nothing else but the task at hand. Tonight, under the cloak of darkness, he was going to do it, he was going to plant the seeds of a riot. (To be continued in part III)

Sattire Attire part III: deserting dessert

‘I want to break free from your lies, you’re so satisfied I don’t need you. I want to break free’ Queen – I want to break free

And so it happened. All that had to happen eventually: A modern-life altering event. They had walked not too distant from each other for only a short distance and he was trying to keep pace and catch up. He never did. She was always ahead of him and still gaining speed. It was as if she was luring him into a never ending false hope. Like holding candy over a child’s head and then whisking it away when the child jumps at it.

He cursed himself in his own head and the hat kept remitting the ill-feeling back. He cursed Dmitri when he was in his company; cursed him for not keeping his vigilance intact for him.

Though Dmitri knew better than to take those offhand words to heart, he’d been in a similar position before. He’d seen it all before and he’d heard it all before.

“That damned diner is cursed” said he who’d been smitten with ill-fate. They both knew that it was he himself who was cursed. It was he himself who’d always fallen for a trap.

“You make a dash for the mirage” said Dmitri, “when you should stay on course”.

“A mirage?” inquired he.

“Yes, my friend, a mirage. A sense of infinite hope though be it only false. Like a piece of glass likened to a diamond in a stash of coal. And when you reach for it, it inflicts upon you a gash. You bleed due to your own greed.”

She had walked away from him. And he had walked to her. She had vanished like a mirage, like hope that was artificial. And she had left him in a desert after pulling him off course. Was he to blame himself or was he to blame her? He had to break free from her trap. He blamed himself. He had to break free...

“I’m hungry, let’s go to that diner” he said finally.

“That damned diner?” Dmitri mocked.

Not yielding any attention to that bit of rhetoric, courtesy another ill-fated mirage, our hero responded “Yes that damned diner. That’s the one. And today’s special will be special, I can feel it”. His eyes transfixed. "Yes, I can feel it... that's the one, I can feel it..."

“I’m sure of it. Do you feel stupidity?” Dmitri read the situation as accurately as an open book.

“..I can feel it!” His eyes, mind and heart transfixed on the oasis. He had broken free from her. He had not, though, from the cycle which governed his shame. Deep inside he knew that he should know better. But he could feel it. He failed to see, though, that in the entire universe it as only he himself that could feel it. Only him.

When they entered the diner, the sign read "Today's Special: Fool's Hope". Dmitri read it, our hero on the other hand was trying to fathom something else.

"Today's special for me" ordered he.

"One too many you've had" said Dmitri, "Just coffee for me. I'll watch him eat and then complain. Thank you."