Trying to pull my head down, I moved my sight onto the floor and forced an occulsion. I did not think that he could recognise me but I needed to strangle every possibility. In a pair of brand new white sneakers, his feet stood patiently beneath the denim.
It was taking forever to get to the seventeenth floor. The lift went at its slowest speed despite all my brief secret prayers. He was humming to himself, not paying any attention to my presense. Apparently I had worried too much, why would he remember? I was nobody to him. I was nobody to the world.
Out of no reason my lower jaw dropped with my thoughts a little. It seemed to have produced a small sound that caught his ears. I enjoyed two more seconds of peace before he shattered everything. “Hi?”
There were only he and I in the lift. I pretended to be calm and looked up at him. “Are you the girl in that shop the other day?”
I was. I wasn’t. I was not supposed to answer anyway.
‘Well, you don’t have to be embarrassed. Everybody makes mistakes.’ He stated matter-of-factly like a geography teacher. A mere sympathy reflected on the young face behind those lenses crawled along my limbs. I emptied all facial expressions. Who was this eighteen-year-old to give me lectures?
‘Actually I stole once,” he shrugged. ‘I was caught too. Don’t worry, everybody in this country does that.’ He started laughing. It was obvious that God had sent him back to punish me.
The lift stopped; the doors parted slowly to reveal my route of light. I gathered my body all at once and rushed out. Home, I needed to go home. I needed to hide. I needed to bury myself into the pile of novels, the world where I belong.
I stopped and pulled my keys out of the pocket. Thrusting the key into the hole, I was half way home. Then the key refused to turn. I struggled with it and kept losing.
16B was what I read on the door. In less than two seconds, I was shot dead by four words from my previous companion.
Guilty Face
Doors opened. He stepped in. Doors closed.
Trying to pull my head down, I moved my sight onto the floor and forced an occulsion. I did not think that he could recognise me but I needed to strangle every possibility. In a pair of brand new white sneakers, his feet stood patiently beneath the denim.
It was taking forever to get to the seventeenth floor. The lift went at its slowest speed despite all my brief secret prayers. He was humming to himself, not paying any attention to my presense. Apparently I had worried too much, why would he remember? I was nobody to him. I was nobody to the world.
Out of no reason my lower jaw dropped with my thoughts a little. It seemed to have produced a small sound that caught his ears. I enjoyed two more seconds of peace before he shattered everything. “Hi?”
There were only he and I in the lift. I pretended to be calm and looked up at him. “Are you the girl in that shop the other day?”
I was. I wasn’t. I was not supposed to answer anyway.
‘Well, you don’t have to be embarrassed. Everybody makes mistakes.’ He stated matter-of-factly like a geography teacher. A mere sympathy reflected on the young face behind those lenses crawled along my limbs. I emptied all facial expressions. Who was this eighteen-year-old to give me lectures?
‘Actually I stole once,” he shrugged. ‘I was caught too. Don’t worry, everybody in this country does that.’ He started laughing. It was obvious that God had sent him back to punish me.
The lift stopped; the doors parted slowly to reveal my route of light. I gathered my body all at once and rushed out. Home, I needed to go home. I needed to hide. I needed to bury myself into the pile of novels, the world where I belong.
I stopped and pulled my keys out of the pocket. Thrusting the key into the hole, I was half way home. Then the key refused to turn. I struggled with it and kept losing.
16B was what I read on the door. In less than two seconds, I was shot dead by four words from my previous companion.
‘That is my home.’
Hiding a guilty face. 2 January 2006