Sunday, March 28, 2010
Observing the Observers
Friday, March 26, 2010
Pan
Friday, March 19, 2010
Pilot.
Al sticked up her earphones. In the mere knowledge of how this day was just another bad day like she had predicted, she scoffed, picked another song by Paramore and walked. Like always. Rewinding the tape in her head, she played that day’s scenario all over again.
She woke up.
Had breakfast.
Got a shower.
Put on some cutting-edge outfit to impress her classmates.
And walked. and walked.
And walked.
And played the same old role, the same old smile, the same old pretenses. The day went by, same old Al. She scoffed again, kicked some gravels as she strolled down the narrow path to her house and tried to let it go.
“Pssst!”
She almost couldn’t hear it.
“Hey!”
Al stopped short. She removed one of her earphones and looked around. “Hello?” she stretched her ears, trying to listen. Usually, she never had been so bold. Her iPod was almost like her sanctuary, immersing her thoughts in rhymes and loud guitar sounds. Somehow, today was different.
“Hello? Anybody here?”
“Hi!”
Al almost jumped backwards when she saw him—or it. A tall figure. A very colorful tall figure, was standing in front of her, grinning. It had hair like a very strange rainbow-flavored cotton candy. Its teeth were white, with a hint of pink gloss all over it. It was wearing a suit, a green jacket and yellow trousers. Its big red shoes looked like it belongs to Ronald McDonald. Its posture was… masculine, with a touch of vanity. Maybe it was fair to say that IT was a man. A slender man, bold in appearance but gentle in his gaze. He was standing with his hands behind his back, as if he was holding confettis and was ready to throw them at Al.
She was uncertain as to how to respond. She just stared.
“Aren’t you going to greet me back?” asked the man.
“I only greet whom I know.” Al answered. Her eyes fixed on his dark blue iris. The darkest color she could find in him.
“Well, what’s your name?” he asked calmly, in a cheery voice, almost like a voice of a seventeen-year-old boy who has just reached puberty. But Al was sure she could detect depth in his tone.
“Alana.” She said. “Who are you?”
“Well,” he started circling her. “I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together.”
Al scowled. “Did you just quote The Beatles to me?”
“I don’t know, did I?” he stopped moving, leaning his face against hers.
“Okay,” Al pulled back, started to walk away. She plugged her earphone back to her left ear and cranked up the volume. She didn’t have time to indulge a mad man.
But then again, there was something intriguing about him. Something… more. And as she hasten her steps, she could hear a distant voice in her head.
“We’ll be seeing each other.” A deep, heavy voice.
Al looked back for the last time, to find that the man was gone.