She stands on the corner waiting for a bus that does not appear. Half an hour ago the street was deserted, only one other person visible on the motor-less road as far as the eye could see. A cold wind rushed up from some deep secret place, forcing her to admit to a sense of foreboding by putting her arms around herself. Some renegade leaves escaped from the haranguing brooms of the meticulous street-sweepers skittered past, running from the approaching darkness. Her straight-cut grey jacket and pencil-line skirt provided no contrast against the lifeless buildings or the mourning sky. Nothing much changed.
A door opened nearby, making way for two women. Their animated conversation was subdued by the pressing gloom and one quietly bade the other goodbye as they turned in opposite directions. Another door opened and more people began to emerge. Her eyes search the visible end of the road for transport. Her purpose in leaving work early is beaten as the bus-stop begins to fill with people waiting beside her. A quiet ride home is not on the agenda today. The trickle of cars that had begun to appear with the people earlier grew to a steady stream, filling the air with a monotonous subito rumble. The street had become busy, but busy without the bustle.
The stream of cars grew to a thickly packed stew and still her bus failed to appear. She switches her bag from one hand to the other and draws her hand back through her hair; brain now calculating and considering other options. Still her bus failed to appear. She takes the final breath.
***
The street suddenly becomes an upside down jar. Nobody knows what happened. Everybody runs in the same direction; towards it. The sound stopped her halfway through making the decision to start walking towards the callbox. She hesitated, thinking. The darkness quickly escapes, letting the angry sun through to examine the damage. The mass of vehicles has stopped moving completely. Some drivers step out and start running, others stare in open-mouthed confusion.
If she ran with the others, that would be the good thing; if she ran alone, that would be the wise thing. If she ran with the others, she could be a victim; if she ran alone, she could be a suspect. If she walked alone, nobody would be the wiser. She calmly proceeded towards the callbox, threading her way through the mass of people still running in the opposite direction.
***
Late in the evening she sits alone in front of her TV, a warm mug of coffee in her hand. She watches the screen as bomb victims scream and bleed, dying in the arms of volunteers who disappear with the flames of the second blast. She smiles at her wisdom, frowning at the guilt.
6 comments:
Then again...
...this world we live in is certainly big enough to accommodate a few people who want to blow things up... or blow themselves up... but the problem with the current lot is that they haven't found their niche yet!
... I mean... think about it... this world is full of things that need blowing up – I mean, let’s start with buildings that are architectural eye sores. As a matter of principle, I am against killing people – even if they kill others. But surely there’s a lot to be gained if the threat of being the target of a suicide bomber would keep those crappy bands from holding concerts and releasing albums… the world would certainly be a better place if pathetic writers can be threatened out of publishing their work… I mean, you need to be blunt like that sometimes, because these people just don’t get it. Then there are people like Mervin who only know the language of violence – who need to be told to shut up by someone who can back-themselves with a bomb.
If only the suicide bombers had their priorities right… what a wonderful world this would be! And to just blow all that potential to do good service on a crowd of innocent civilians… or even poor soldiers…. What a royal waste!!!!
my first reaction was ... hmmm... interesting... :) nice...!
then i read da post above mine n i was like.. huh??! wat da...?!
i guess im not deep enough to get the.."deeper" meaning... :D
greetings 4m da darkside!
oh... and not to mention the fact that there should be suicide bombers commissioned specifically to prevent idiots from commenting on blogs...
touche, touche..
i just dnt feel suicide bombers are somethin tat can be joked abt.. n i have a pretty warped sense o humour, so comin from me tats gtta mean somethin..
jus an opinion, jus an opinion..
oh my gosh guys! i was thrilled people were commenting on my creative genius! LOL... try and concentrate on the fact that I'm just exercising my creativity here, not expounding some deep philosophical theory! :)
but since someone did get philosophical... i agree. if the blow-uppers blew up the right things, this world would be a much nicer place... especially since the blow-uppers themselves would also be got rid of! but then again G i suppose you have a point... does one feel alright joking about it!?
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