Note: this piece was a lame attempt to capture an ispirational phase in my so-called life 4 months ago. Just want to get it off my USB once and for all. Am not good in writing. I wish I was, though.
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"If I asked you to take my hand, walk in silence, read my thoughts through my eyes only, for TWO hours, would you?"
I was about to argue the possibility of you spending that two silent hours with ME (my God ME!) when I saw the longing, almost like urgent desperation, in your coffee brown eyes that I shoved back down my throat what was supposedly be my idea of a funny and clever response to your baffling question and decided that, hell, I will gladly take your hand next to my clammy one if it'll take some, if not all, the desolation I swore I saw a few seconds before you hastily turned your back to me.
Surprisingly it took a while before I managed to utter my weak "Of course. Uhm, but where to exactly?"
"Anywhere. Just get me as far away as possible in this miserable, little shit of town."
There again. The underlying tone of desperation in your voice. Wonder what made you feel that way in the first place. Trouble brewing at home? Nah. Work? Injustice? Politics? Her? I don't think so. Especially that. You'd probably run first to your friends and talk about it over some booze and smokes rather than discuss it with me. Besides, we never really delved into that subject because you don’t want to and because I can’t ask you to. So exactly why are you running to me now huh?
No reply. Just the wind howling in the background.
Okay. So I guess this is where the “no talking” probably starts. I shrugged myself, downed a deep breath and took your hand. Your right to my left.
At first you looked like you were startled at me for taking your hand but then you looked straight ahead again and I brushed it off as maybe a figment of my reality gone awry.
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