staying.cool

A thought. A word. A twinge. A smile. A shake. He went through them all, sitting outside in the afternoon sun. The sun beat down on him, but not hard. It was the changing seasons that were causing this.

A mild sun, golden-green trees, and a slightly chilled wind. Not uncomfortable. He sipped the coffee, wincing at the boiling hot liquid swirled in his mouth, and shot down his throat. He could actually feel the heat hit his stomach, sending bolts up his arms and down his legs. He didn’t know why he was out here, he was probably better occupied inside, in front of papers and computers. It was a deep sense of frustration that was causing this.

The mind rambles when left well alone especially after being forced into thinking about one problem, over and over and over… he let it wander. It probably deserved a break. That was it. This was a break. A hop, a skip and a jump and he was free of the world, the strappings, the problems waiting for him. The world passed him by; the student on the skateboad zooming to class, the girlfriends giggling over the fact that he looked lost, the frat-boy gang laughing and hitting each other. This was no break. It was the loneliness that was having him be out here. The loneliness that was causing this.

A faint smile came to his lips. He could remember a time when he would sit out in the open and everyone who passed him by greeted him. Then a time when all he wanted to do was never sit in the light again, only in the dark, no-one should ever see him. Now a time when such things did not occur to him, but no-one knew him either. Many things had changed, many things were going back to staying the same as well. Time always went full circle. It was the time that was causing this.

His mind couldn’t care less for the last thought. It was amazing how many trivia, how many inconsequentia had accumulated over the years. Facts he had no use for, and never would. But they were good old friends to have around now. Following them, applying what he knew, seeing a true explanation for what they represented. Each one was more interesting. Each one took lesser time. Would there come a time when he wouldn’t have anymore? Would he have to go back to that problem waiting for him? The one that drove him out here? Was it the problem that was causing this?

He jumped down off the wall, picked up the cup, and strolled back in. The doors closed behind him, and he sprinted downstairs. A last thought:

At the end of it, he had no idea what had caused him to go out there.

He had no idea what had caused it.

Or what it would cause.

what kanchan posted about triggered some leftover thoughts in me, and i went ahead and put together one possible version of it. mind you, what really came home to me is that i need to write more, and think about writing more.

however, such mundane musings aside: Discovery. it is a little unfinished for my tastes, and maybe a little uneven.. maybe a few reads i might make in a while will help. i know i can’t expect help from any of you.

otherwise, enjoy. i think.

Standing there, waiting. The time ticked by. An eternity. Forever.

A movement. Lights were coming on.

Shadows surrounded him, the spot he was in was shielded even in the scorching sun. The merest shadow of a smile crossed his face.

It would soon be time.

Flashes.

The final rays of the sun illuminated the space nearby. His position was perfect, neither the rays, nor the probing eyes.. none of them would be able to find him. He moved his hand, the first movement in nearly an hour for him, and checked his side. All good.

The slamming reached his ears, this was standard procedure. He peeked in the direction of the sun. Soon, very soon.

He watched the rigmarole unfold, as it did every night. The light snapped off at each window by the steel gates slamming closed… the next… the next, they were all done. A barring sound coming as the gate closed. Security was above all.

He had vague memories of it not being thus. Memories of not having to wait, not wanting to wait, of the roads being asphalt and not grass.. of red not being the most important color around, of light not being hated, of a life that did not revolve around the next meal, of smiling, laughing… what was the word?… talking even. His fingers curled in towards the palm, leaving the thumb sticking up - that was a good thing. The thumb went in, the middle finger extended - that had been a frequently used thing. He stood staring at the semi-darkness that encompassed his hand, mouth not a little open… and the silence deafened him. He looked up at the house. It was time.

The prey in the house had it all wrong. They still had organization, albeit loose, albeit wild. They still knew that some things in the house were worth saving, even just to be hunted again. They had warned him when he had captured one of them. They knew that the carnage from one night ago had started here. They had sent him to follow, they had stationed him, and now they had come.

He moved… pattering on the stones as he had been trained to… the signal given, he moved closer to the house. The pattering was carried by the sound of a thousand feet pattering the same asphalt… running toward him, the notice was given, the game was afoot. A tinny sound from the house… warning!

It did not matter. The prey was not to survive. He passed a crudely painted sign. The scrawl would have meant something, once. ‘Dr. Robert Neville’ was savagely broken, and thrown.

It was time to feast.

Inspired by ‘I Am Legend’

‘Romeo O Romeo…’ formed the beginning of one of the most eloquent passages in English literature. Sadly, the world would never know his own thoughts. She was after all the reason this had happened to him. The rapidly spreading splotch of blood, the weak knees, the dizziness, the fact that he was lolling on the floor… that he was near death.

All he had to do was tell her. And she wasn’t here. Classic clichés never fail you when you need them the most. Or even when you don’t need them. Desperation. He had been willing to go the rest of his life without her ever appearing in his sight. And now he needed to see her. One last time. Words, thoughts, emotions, his mind - they would finally have the outlet he needed. The solution was pointless now, but could have been so much more. Everything could have been so much more.

Most men would have called him crazy. Too predictable. There was no reason for anyone to think this way, to have pushed themselves to the point he had. His breath quickened. He didn’t have much time left. Lolling on the floor, awaiting the inevitable, the only thought he had was her. Her hair, raven black, cascading down. It caught your eye, and even before you can follow it, her eyes would glance at you. Twinkling, gleaming, a deep black hole with a winking light in the distance… holding the expression of one who knew how much fun it would be to knock you off your guard right then. She had smiled at him even then, the first time; a smile that revealed far more than she knew. It had never been too wide, nor just the barest of upturning of the corners of the lips… it had been perfect. Like so much else about her. The dancing earrings, the slender neck… a twinge, a heartbeat skipped.

Yonder in the haze that was settling over his eyes, he could see her. She was coming towards him: small smile, raven hair, dazzling eyes and all. He wanted to reach out… pushing himself off the wall, reaching out, stretching… stretching… and falling flat on his face. He tried to roll back up, and only managed to get half way when her eyes arrested him again… but soulless, depthless… the twinkle lost in the dark depths.

All he wanted to say was her name. Time was running out. He opened his mouth….

In which a day was a year and a year was a day. So that seasons changed soon. It was spring in the morning, rain at night and snow in between. But this made him start thinking: did the beings inhabiting this place call it a day or a year? Did they have birthdays every day? Now, that would be fun indeed. Cake to eat all day long; no, wait, that would make it all year long. Hmmm.. Granny always said eating cake all the time made you fall ill. Was that what these beings were? Ill? Was that why there was no one around? Or had they given up the unequal fight of trying to stay on a planet which revolved and rotated so fast and followed its own crazy orbit a long time ago, and fallen off its surface? Wow, that would be fun. He decided he would try to peer over the rim of the planet and see how many fallen bodies littered the space around. He tried taking one step and found himself shaking all over, arms and legs doing a tango of their own in wildly different directions.
What was that sound? Surely they didn’t have that in this perfect world!

Incidental to all this was the fact the peering over the rim of this planet wasn’t going to be easy. From what he could see, the rim was far. Really far. And that sound was getting closer. He should probably be looking for someone celebrating birthdays. Or even multiple people celebrating multiple birthdays. Lots of cake. Cake, was after all, key. Grandmothers are known to be overly protective. If they would eat cake more often, they’d probably never fall ‘old’.

He looked up.

Was going to be ‘in between’ soon. Snow came suddenly to these parts. And struck hard and cruelly. Uh-oh. That white humongous thing seemed to be headed down his way. Better find…

WHUMP.

Ouch.

Time to start digging. Up. That sound seemed to have disappeared. Snow does that to you. Relieves you of doing the tango as well, apparently. Weird damned planet. Rotation, revolution, tango and snow. And that sound as well.

For some unknown reason the words ‘Hi ho! Hi ho! HihoHihoHiho! Hi ho, Hi ho, It’s home from work we go..’ appeared unbidden in his head. He couldn’t very well sing, breathing was a little bit of a bother under snow. Stupid song. Where in the world had that come from ?

That and that were pretty tormenting. And all this digging. Would it never end ?

Interestingly, he’d never thought in italics and bold before. Formatting for thoughts was a new one.

It took a few hours. A few, because, he’d never thought of metrics before. He needed some good terms. ‘asd,asf,sda…’. No. Not really. Years and days were interchangeable, thanks to his definitions. Leastaways on a planet where a day and a year followed the same timeline. It was raining, but from the looks of it, it would be spring soon. Which wasn’t necessarily as good as it sounded. He still needed metrics. It would have to wait. Time to look over the edge. Time to get to the edge. ‘Hi ho! Hi ho! HihoHihoHiho!..’ Ah crap. Not that song again.

Walk.. walkety, walkety walk..

To be continued. Once again, italicized passage, Kanchan’s inception. The best I could do. I’m not happy.

He looked about him in wide-eyed wonder. It was very unlike his normal environs; so unlike, that to use the term “different” would be very hackneyed, not to mention inadequate. He tried pinching himself to see if he was in a dream. He found he couldn’t. He didn’t feel the pinch at all. ‘That’s it, I am dreaming’, was his first thought. Succeeded very soon by the second one - ‘but it’s all so topsy turvy’. The object he stood on was a bright blue in colour, looked very liquidy, and yet he was standing on top of it.

It was interesting about this thing he was standing on. On first glance, it seemed almost… unstable. ‘I wonder..’, he thought, and bent down to look closer.

Seconds later, he was inside it. Turned out it was unstable, moreso on prodding. Oh well. He was all wet anyway.
And now, he was going deeper into it, without doing anything at all. Sinking. Like the feeling in the pit of his stomach, which told him he was in big trouble indeed.

Not a good start at all.

–

‘You really think this is the only way he can learn ?’
‘Learn ? He should be knowing by now.’
‘Given that he’s completely clueless about where he is, or what he’s doing.. that’s a tad redundant to say.’
‘He has powers, he knows it. And no better way of figuring it without having a use for it. He’s not going to get any epiphanies walking down the street the way he does. Piffle.’
‘Piffle to you too. You’re going to be the death of him.’