Thursday, February 19, 2009

And there she was.

Red.
The traffic signal turned me down.
A new track on the CD. A keyboard overture, slowly building up. Head swaying in tune with the melody, in anticipation of the amplified ecstasy soon to follow. Then came the trough, the fleeting silence just before the chorus broke out.

And there she was.

Like a belligerent piece of graffiti that stands out on a crowded ruin, like a splash of icy water in the middle of a cold winter night, like a distant fisherman's boat that punctuates a lonely sea's orange horizon, like a stolen moment of blissful somnolence during a busy day's work, there she was.

Percussion on the stereo.

My monday morning, on a platter.

The world emptied itself around me.
A fragrant deluge of headiness surged through my memory, burning itself onto it. Everything else hushed itself, slinking away quietly from the scene, into pixelated vision. Everything except the eyes. The eyes. Her eyes.

Those eyes. Two poetic specks of life reaching out across the abyss that was the urban wilderness surrounding me. Like crystal orbs to be gazed into, of course for more pragmatic purposes than to predict a future that had never seemed more obscenely irrelevant. I wasn't tied down to reality anymore, not to anything. I was no longer in the cockpit of a car languishing at a traffic crossing, I was somewhere else, somewhere very far away, trapped in her gaze while a distant stereo peppered my senses with a soaring chorus. I had just lived a forever.

There she was.
My monday morning reprieve, my raging memory, my...

I looked around myself, half expecting to hear the screeching sounds of my life grinding to an abrupt halt, curious to see if the sky would morph into a more heavenly shade of sky-blue as promised by the powers that be, wishfully hoping to see these words of mine take a colourful life of their own and waft across...

Until a rogue horn broke my senses.

And there she was.
Plastered across a billboard, selling me jeans.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I thought this was a continuation of the blog of a girl at traffic signals, a real girl, unlike this one selling jeans.

After the last post, reading this was like the rogue horn that bought you back to your senses.

The title and the revelation of the subject, was tantalizing.