~iota

I watched as he walked joyfully down the street with a bag of veggies. The timer was about to run out and the blue count gradually changed to purple. It will, in time change to orange and then red; marking his death.  This was something that always came up in my musings. Why would a supreme power, if any, give us such a sense? - The ability to know when a peer's life ends. What good will it ever do? I sat in my usual spot in the diner and asked for a plate of bacon and some coffee. The waitress paused for a moment and walked away to the counter. I plugged in my earphones and resumed my playlist. Interrupting, the waitress gently dropped the plate on my table, audaciously showing how much she cared and parted. Her face is devoid of the faintest smile. Why can't people just smile? That was about a week ago. But today, something felt different. Good different. I noticed it once I got out of my apartment. The old lady selling flowers down the street took ...

Prosaic Musings By someone's suggestion, I subsurviently adopted the coping mechanism to observe my emotions rather than succumbing to her grapple. The feeling of grief have been under my control by this very method for a very long time, at least I thought so. Although I found myself being compared to a tin hearted being by my very conscience, I realized that such can't be the case, at least, with me, when I broke down against the face of despair that fate had in stock.

The lover that was. The house. "I just don't love you anymore." I fought the catch in my throat as she stood there, her beautiful face, with a visible paucity of emotions. When I walked out, soaked in despair, even my proudest veins pined for those lips to call me back. The mountains. The squeak of the wipers usually bothered me. Maybe more than it would anybody else, but tonight, it didn't. It helped fight the deafening silence inside the cabin.  She wasn't the greatest fan of hairpin curves and the steep drops, and maybe that's what curbed me from driving to my favorite spot off the city. The Ephemera. The thick fog and the golden sunshine gave an etheral aura to the summit, the cold air that I breath championing the spot a place among the heavens. The bone chilling drop only a few feet away, awed the lover in me.