Entry 2
I took a good look at the house before locking the door behind me. It was a nervous tick of mine. Made sure everything was in place. Made sure I knew the exact location of the few possessions I had. In case someone decided to break in, I would know if anything was taken. I rolled my eyes at my own paranoia and shut the door with a definitive click. Turn key to the left. Lock door. It was almost mechanical, with the most minimal signal being relayed from my brain to my hands. My right hand seemed to be alright. I stared at it again. The fifth time this morning. Wiggle, wiggle. Fingers were moving. I raised my eyebrows skeptically. Hmm. I hoisted my bag on my shoulder and started walking. And here we go again. Walk, bus – bus, walk. Back and forth, forth and back. That was my life now. One step. Two steps. I had been reduced to counting steps. It didn’t seem all that bad when I was counting steps. Concentrate. Don’t miss a beat. Good. Hundred and one steps. Hundred and two steps. And sometimes, it all became so automatic I could even let my mind wander. I looked up at the trees. Green now. With the colours of summer still fresh, like the finishing touches on a brilliant masterpiece. But it wouldn’t last. Summer was ephemeral. Green morphed into orange and red. And yellow. Bright yellow. Yellow was the danger signal. Yellow was deceiving. It paraded under the colours of the sun, as if nothing could touch it. Nothing could harm it. And the more yellow the world became, the colder it would be. The white would be over-powering after the dazzling yellow. I usually loved the white. And the cold. But somehow, this time, I knew it would be bone-chilling. I shivered. A little tremor traveled all the way down to my toes. I looked down at them and slowly buttoned up the light sweater I was wearing. Hundred and forty-seven. Hundred and forty-eight. I kept on walking. The distance between me and the bus-stop got shorter and shorter. My feet ate it up. I gave a little laugh. Funny. Strange. But funny. I sighed. Lately, everything seemed to have a twisted humour behind it. I wasn’t sure if it was healthy to indulge that. Right. Healthy. I laughed again, thinking about health and how ironic it was that I was concerned about mine. It didn’t make any sense. I kept on walking. I suddenly felt very tired. I swept a hand over my eyes in a vain attempt to wipe away my tiredness. I sighed. Deeply. Slowly. Languidly. When I looked up again, I was standing in front of the bus-stop. I had counted two hundred and seventeen steps as the bus rolled in. A rumble. A hiss. The sound of vacuum-sealed doors opening. And I let myself be swallowed into the commuting crowd.
posted by Arien @ 8:42 am
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