Of Queens and dreams....

Every time the train passed by her house, the noise murdered her sleep and left her shaking. Fire trucks and police cars filled in with their sirens when the train was away. She tossed and turned forcing herself to sleep. Some drunk men were cussing and quarreling at each other below her bedroom window. She had been planning to do something with the window insulation for the past one year but she still hasn’t found the time. It was expensive anyway and it was a pain to talk to her landlord. It was 4 am in the morning and she had to get up in another hour. She came home late from work last night and she hasn’t slept a wink.

She had considered moving out but it was impossible. She had to commute two good hours to work and living further away from the subway meant she had to walk more. She did not mind walking the distance, but it was difficult. Crazy men prowled in the night and the papers were full of rape stories. And come Fall, everything freezes... walking long distance was impossible. Finding another place also meant compiling endless papers for the lease. Bank statements, tax returns, employment letters.. she had non.

Her roommate was snoring soundly across the hall on the sofa. Somehow, it sounded soothing. She wished she could sleep.

She had a long day ahead. Getting the kids ready for school. Doing the dishes, making the beds, cleaning the apartment and shopping for dinner. Her employer was going away somewhere for the day and asked her to attend the parents’ meeting at the kids’ school. She decided she would stay late tomorrow and finish up the laundry as it was piling.

She felt a tear drop escape her eyes and cool off as it rolled down her temple. This has been her routine. Every night, she laid on her pillow and cried. Then she felt the small bulge in her mattress. It was there as usual. It was her secret comforter. She felt the bulge on her mattress every night and gained the strength that she had everyday. With this week’s pay, it would be seven thousand dollars that she had been secretly stuffing under her mattress.

The alarm clock blared off. She sprang out of bed in a cat-like reflex, jumped into the shower and she was ready in 30 minutes. She had a train to catch and a long day ahead. Her roommate took her turn in the shower. She said goodbye to her through the bathroom door and rushed out...........

Riding on Long Island Expressway

I am on my way home to the Hamptons on a bus right now. It’s a beautiful day. After two days of solid fun with my friends, I am not very happy that I have to leave. It’s a pleasant ride, they have a lavatory, wireless internet and serve refreshment snacks on the bus. However, cellphones and electronics with external speakers are not allowed in the bus so I shut off the ringer on my cell and tossed it into my bag.

I hopped onto the bus on 59th St. Lexington Ave. As usual, I opened my computer as soon as I got settled inside. I realized today that I can’t live without my computer! Some of my friends on facebook commented so, and they were right. I carry my computer with me religiously to wherever I go! ( I am not a computer geek though, I hardly know how to use half of the applications that my computer carry)

The bus snaked through the traffic of Manhattan. With the typical monday morning traffic, I was uneasy if we would ever get out of the City. I sat back with my hands on my computer and my eyes through the bus wind shield. It was mad outside. Cars inched up from bumper to bumper, the noise, angry people who were late for work, oh, you have to see it to get the feel. To add to that, there is the UN Assembly going on in the city and there was a cop stationed on every block. I saw a few impatient drivers get pulled over in just a minute.

Everybody in the bus had fallen asleep or were engrossed deep-way through some books by the time we got out of Midtown Tunnel. It was a relief. The traffic eased out and started flowing perfect. The bus floor vibrating under my feet told me that we were now riding smooth at 55.Mph. It was another relief to be able to see the blue sky without the Mountains of skyscrapers. The buildings got shorter and shorter as we moved further away from the city and gave way to beautiful suburban homes.

An elderly couple were snoring soundly next to me. Some how I wished if I could sleep too. I gazed through the window as settlements thinned out. Street lights, telephone poles, sign boards and cars floated by. The landscape changed to a blanket of trees to the horizon. I thought about my friends back in the city. The clock told me that they were at work and busy. I partied and enjoyed with them till I got wasted with alcohol. My friends introduced me to their friends and friends of friends. I met so many new faces that my brain decided to shut off and not remember a single name. I will be in trouble if I bump into them next time because I honestly can’t seem to recall a single name. That’s what happens when you replace your blood with alcohol and is ready to flame up at the strike of a match. And it’s worse when you manage to keep a straight face and pretend like it’s your first drink every time when what you really needed to do was drop on the floor like a bag of laundry. You must wonder how I am even up and headed to work right now after all the drama. Honestly, I do not feel very well. I scrubbed and showered this morning but I still smell like a zippo lighter that has been left forgotten in the ashtray.

My head has a dumbbell in it rolling from side to side. My breath, oh, you don’t want to be anywhere near 10 meters from me. I am actually thinking I can use my breath as a weapon against nasty people right now.

As I gazed through the changing topography, I felt the familiar feel of ocean air. This reminds me that I am almost home and that I need to shut off my computer. This reminds me that I am back to reality. It was great fun enjoying with friends. I don’t know when I will be able to do it again as work hasn’t ceased its oppression on me still. But when the day comes, I am going to party again.

A Winner

I have this bad habit of waking up at odd hours in the night and not being able to fall asleep again. I’ve tried not taking naps during the day. I’ve tried the pills. But this bad little habit of mine has its own routine and I just wake up at strange hours no matter what.

Last week, I was in the city on one of my regular assignments. I normally stay in a hotel around Time Square in Manhattan but that night, I thought it would be cheaper in Queens. I was right, the hotels in Manhattan were a rip off. I got a King Suite right on Long Island City for a mere quarter of the price I normally pay. The room was fairly large and very clean. I took a hot shower and jumped straight into bed. I must have been tired, I was fast asleep without much tossing and turning.

My cell phone rang and woke me up. I forgot to switch off the ringer. Every light in the room was on. I had not even turned off the TV. I looked at my phone to see who had called. It was an unknown number. Then I looked at the clock. It was 3:a.m. Drat that, of all times, why would somebody want to wake me up at 3 in the morning! I called back the number. An angry male voice answered and then hung up on me. How sweet, I thought. I wanted to call him back and give him a piece of my mind but decided I would go out instead and smoke a cigarette. As if luck had it, my cigarette pack was empty. The urge to smoke in me started throwing a tantrum. I jumped into my sweat pants and went out.

There was a chill in the air and the street was almost deserted except for a few cars that zoomed fast every now and then. I walked down the street hopping to find a convenient store still open. I walked about three blocks and saw a sign that said open. There were a few people infront of the store. Early risers, I thought and walked to the dimly lit door. It was locked. Perhaps the owner forgot to switch the sign from last night. I tried to peer in through the door to see if anybody was inside.

“The store is closed.” Somebody said from behind me. I turned around. It was a group of Hispanic and Black men. I smiled, pointed at the ‘open’ sign and started walking away. “Hey, Stop! What do you need?” He asked. “Never mind, I just needed to buy a cigarette.’ I said and continued walking. “Hey, Chino, do you have any change on you?” Another man shouted. He was wearing a hood and I could not see his face. They started advancing towards me. A red flag went up in my mind. I felt my hair rise. I looked to the left and then to the right. The streets were deserted to the next mile. A chill went through my spine. I counted them. They were four ogre sized men with a strong smell of trouble. I evaluated my strength - Outnumbered and atleast two minutes before the cops or any help could reach me!

‘Nope, I don’t have any money, I am broke.” I said and with that, I took to my heels. I heard somebody run after me for a few feet and then give up. I did not look back. I ran and ran as fast as my legs could carry me till I reached a busy street. My lungs were gasping for air and my heart was hammering against my chest. Early commuters were spewing into the street on their way to work. I was safe. I thanked my heavens. I went to a store that was open for real this time and bought a pack of cigarette.

I puffed up huge clouds of smoke and thought about the close call. Were they robbers? Were they looking for trouble? Why did I run? Am I a coward? A series of thoughts ran across my mind. Suddenly I started chuckling.

I was a winner! Whatever their intentions, those men in sweat shirt hoods were the losers. The choice I made to run against my pride was a wise decision. Back then, when I was eighteen, if they had confronted me on such a night, I would have turned around. I would have shown them a few swift kicks from my twelve years of practicing Tae-kwonn-do. I would have showed them the strength of a red bull in me that could walk up endless mountains with 50 Kgs of load on my back. I would have given them a piece of my mind. I would have bragged on how I grew up on red rice. But no, I am 30 now. Age has taught me well. I carry a few scars on my back and a permanent one in my mind. The choices I made through these years had made me a winner.

Confusions in a Thought

Every time I go out, it’s an adventure. Well, no, if it’s drama you are thinking. I hardly have anything interesting that I can storm up on any given night. It’s what goes on inside my head. I go out for dinner almost every night. I am a bad cook, and for that matter, if I offer to take you out to a restaurant next time, know this, that I haven’t probably stocked up my fridge in ages.

Now, tonight’s dinner was just anything normal. I went out to this Sushi restaurant in West Hampton. It’s the only one in the neighborhood and I had been frequenting it for a while. Not that it’s hot but it’s the only place where I can get stuffs closest to my home cooking. I don’t know if the nice Japanese waitress could be the other reason. I don’t know her name and I had classified her with that husky voice and pleasant nature in my mental contact list.

I ordered a random sushi assortment from the menu with a Sapporo beer. My practice with the chopsticks had worked well as usual and did not spill any food. I viewed an elderly couple on the next table. The bill was probably not what they expected. The waitress was trying hard to explain it to them.

I sipped on my beer. I was trying not to think. Think, that’s what I do whenever I am left to myself. I think of anything and everything that goes on around me. I walk down the busy street in a stupor. Lost in a cloudy world in my head. The world around me goes in a flurry of hurrying people and I find myself lifted to a binocular angle looking at myself, conscious of everything I do. Everything around me dissipates into a zombie-like state.

I see my hands reach out to the food, sipping the beer, leaning back to relax. Then I see myself thinking. Thinking of so many things that I can only explain to myself. I find myself laughing at what goes in my head. I am lost between the two selves. They are both me. They both have their own minds. One watching the other, both aware of each other.

As I watched myself, I wondered what I was doing there. What all the people around me were doing there? The food, the smell of alcohol, the music. It’s all strange. A child was playing scratch off games at a corner. What does he have in mind? What if he strikes the jack pot? What’s going on in the kid’s head? He probably wants just a toy and doesn’t think beyond that. What was the meaning of all this?

A stranger smiled at me yesterday and I had smiled back. Why did I do that? I did not plan it when I stepped out from my home. I did not realize I smiled back at the stranger until I did. Does that mean, I am not alone in the ownership of my mind?

Then my thoughts float back to the people I know. I have loved ones and family. I have people who know me, love me, depend on me. I am the hope for them. But why? And what am I doing away from them?

Am I an individual? Well, we all are. Each doing their work, day in, day out. Ever so striving towards a goal. But what after that? Believe impermanence to be the answer? A mere conditioned existence? We each have a story to tell, a dream to fulfill. What if I am a millionaire tomorrow? What if I never made it anywhere in life? Will it be any different?

Why am I hopping there is something waiting for me to reach out somewhere there in the distant?

The waitress cleared away my table calling my two selves together. In a hurry, they both clashed somewhere in my mind and I felt a strain in my neck from the impact. I smiled at her and asked for the check. She looked at me and asked if I was okay. Someone in my mind panicked. Did she come to know about the affair in my mind? She clearly looked like she was only one. Did she too have a self that hovered around her while she waited on tables? What goes in her mind? She smiles all the time. Is she mocking all the hovering entities hovering above the people’s mind in there? Maybe she meant it in mere courtesy. Maybe I was thinking too much.

Just another day in New York

Walking down Fashion Avenue trying to find a quiet lounge was stupid. Specially when you carry a big black duffle bag and you look like a suburban redneck Asian. The traffic was as crazy as always and it somehow played on my nerves today. I went into a bar round the corner. Everything was black and red inside. If it was anything of a design thing, I would rather stick my fingers down my throat and throw up in the toilet bowl. I threw my bag on the floor and grabbed a tall bar stool at the counter. The girl at the bar beamed a big smile on me and hollered what I would like. She made me feel like a happy go camper. I kicked my bag further under the counter and ordered a beer with lime. I stood straight on the stool like I am sitting for an interview and the prize was the beer. I tried to smile but my lips were stiff and dead from the visit to the dentist. I simply winked thank you as she pushed the tall beer glass towards me and smiled; ‘Five Dollars’. I felt all my four pockets and found a five dollar change in my back pocket.

I surveyed the elaborate display of liquors in the glass panel and bobbed my head in tune with the music. I was mentally fighting my tongue from automatically sticking into my newly constructed teeth. It was a lot of drilling and more drilling at the dentist’s and the smell from it kept transporting me to a tile factory.

A tall blonde grabbed the stool next to me. She had a hint of French accent for an all American blonde. I was simply minding my own business but her tall figure sitting right next to me made me feel an inch shorter in an instant. She looked in my direction and helloed me. I smiled.

A young Asian couple came next and sat at the counter. If they knew anything about love, it was kissing. I had a glimpse of the girl. She looked like the girl at the massage parlor I met that afternoon who gave me a handjob and taught me how to say I love you in Chinese. But I was not in a hurry to fall in love with a random masseuse who touched all kinds of strangers.

I had a bad day and the scene at the bar wasn’t helping. My blind date text messaged at the last minute that she could not make it. I did not care and as a matter of fact, I was secretly wishing I did not have to meet her.

I ordered another beer and felt my bag with my leg. It was still there. My mood played on me and I felt the urge to hold somebody by the neck up against a wall and deliver some mighty blows where it hurt the most. I carefully crafted my vision again. It had to be somebody fairly smaller than me or somebody so drunk who could barely stand.

I paid up and left the bar abruptly. I did not want to spoil the bar ambience with my evil thoughts.

A homeless guy asked me if I could spare some change. I told him I could do with some real change myself. I smiled at that. My wit works in weird ways and most of the things I say are a remaining half of an elaborate sentence that already started in my mind. I walked down the street with endless display of shoes and tops and jeans. I looked at each window and saw my reflection on the glass walking down the street with a big black duffle bag. I half-heartedly entered a shoe store. I scanned the entire display with my eyes and stopped at the boots section. A pair of cowboy boots made me feel like going Outback and whip some rattle snakes in the dessert. I examined the boots and put it back on the glass shelf with a final sneer at the price tag. I am surprised the Prodigal mind in me did not probe me to spend today. It has been dead since this morning when I counted the remains in my wallet. I neatly organized my wallet while sitting on the toilet pot and placed the Metro Card on top. I hate Subways as it makes me feel claustrophobic snaking through endless tunnels but who cared about squeaky little rabbits in the stomach when two dollars could take you where ever and everywhere you needed to go.

I stepped out of the shoe store and walked into the subway. I took the N Train to Astoria. I sat on an empty seat next to a lady with some unruly kids. As the train left the station, there was an announcement that large bags would be searched by the police for security reasons. I sensed a couple of eyes first looking at me and then at my large black bag. I wished I wouldn’t be searched. I did not want to be embarrassed being searched through my underwears and dirty socks in a train watched by hundreds of strangers. I thanked god I did not have a beard or wore some checked scarf.

The Train stopped at 5th Avenue. I came out and walked to Central Park. I suddenly remembered my camera and needed to try some shots. Earlier, I had captured some really good shots of a Tai Chi Master teaching amateurs at a park in China Town. I was merely testing my new lens. A thousand and four hundred dollars in all, I had to dig really deep into my pocket for an expensive hobby.

I looked around for a subject. Everything was quiet and serene. Central Park is a pure break from the maddening crowds of New York. I spotted a grey squirrel and a pigeon. I took a few shots, but they were too fast for me. I just managed to capture a blur of an image. I put back the camera in my bag and decided I would instead read. Reading ‘The time traveler's wife’ in central park, I found myself slowly transported back into my mountains. It has been ages since I had last been to my birth place. A vague image of my mom cooking on the wood stove and my dad sitting by the fire drinking his regular milk tea played on my mind. I wonder if she still uses the hearth. They have electricity in the village now and I remember I had once gifted her a rice cooker.

At the back of my mind, a faint thought of a girl whom I met on the internet remained lingering. She went by the pseudonym ‘Scooter” and she once told me if I bought the book to make her jealous. I guess she really wanted to read the book. I wonder if she still has.

As the sun set behind the tall skyscrapers, the temperature started dropping. I closed my book and walked into the busy street. My mind felt lighter after the visit to Central Park but my subconscious legs pacing fast reminded me that I had a bus to catch back home. It was just another day in New York.

Love in a drab city

His tall looming physic gave her a sense of protection. His cologne smelt warm and made her comfortable. He spoke in short sentences and spoke softly. His every manner was decent and he opened the door for her. Under his arms, she found a new world, a new hope. She forgot her worries. She felt secure, confident, he was in every way what she had always dreamt of. As they walked down Broadway street, an oblivious contentment lifted her from the maddening traffic and hurrying crowds of New York.

In a basement apartment, thick with smell of mold and an old hand me down carpet, the conversation was intense. She sat at the corner of the sofa cum bed, intent to convince. Her mom walked around, lighting an incense at the altar, changing the channel on the bulky TV, stopping to plead that her daughter is making a mistake. ‘But mom, he’s a nice guy. I am sure you will like him.” The daughter said earnestly. “Yes, that’s what you said the last time too, remember?” The mom wore a stern face. Silence filled in. A sob escaped the daughter. The mom sat down next to her. She was breathing heavily. Her voice was breaking. “Look..”, she said. “I want you to be happy.” The daughter leaned on her mother sobbing. “But he doesn’t even speak our language. He doesn’t know our culture. Besides, you just met him.” The mom said in between sobs. They sat there in the dark room finding comfort in the silence that filled in. The butter lamp made a tear drop shaped flame and illuminated a picture of Lord Buddha on the altar.

It was her final year in college. Her visa was expiring soon. The fact of facing her duties has come. She worked night shifts and went to college during the day. Times were tough. She despised her life, the recession, boys who lied through their teeth and cheated on her, her poor family, the smelly basement room, the fake brand name clothing from Cannel Street, her flat breasts, her lack of height....She wanted to give in. There was no hope, no way out. She dreamt of a magical prince charming in the fairy tales.

She pursed her lips and shot him right through with her eyes. It was at work. She was tired, she was angry. She hasn’t had a proper sleep in weeks. This guy came in everyday with a group of bragging boys. They teased her and they kept her busy every night. They ordered expensive wines and flashed around bulky wallets. It was a flurry of escape, desire and helplessness. Suddenly, he produced a beautiful ring out of his pocket, said something to her and it all began. She started dreaming through a gripping fear.

She had a beautiful face, that she was convinced. Her boss who had been hitting on her was a testimony to that. She had given him a try. She went out with him one night. His beard looked dirty and hurt her when he kissed her. He drank too and used force when he made love to her. He ignored her for a week after that, and he hit her again. Then she discovered he went out with the other girls at work too. That pissed her and wanted to quit her job. But she needed money and she was helpless. Her life was a constant battle limping from pillar to post for support. She despised men in general. They were nothing but a bunch of liars who just wanted to get into her pants. Her friends started talking about her. She fell in and out of love many times, she got betrayed every time.

She spent an hour in front of the mirror and she was still not done. She combed her hair and she brushed her face. She tried many different shoes and heels but she still was not satisfied. She wanted to capture his heart this time. She wanted to make it happen. She wanted it for real and bring an end to this misery. She was late when she was finally done. She rushed through the subway and walked two blocks to Brooklyn. She clung onto her phone hopping he would call but there was no network in the subway.

He found her leaning on a lamp post waiting for her. He was beaming with smiles. She sighed relief that he was not mad at her. They hugged and he guided her into the restaurant like a gentleman. He was smartly dressed. His collar was stiff and perfect. He was a decent man, and in every manner a gentleman. She ate little and talked to him almost in whispers. He listened to her and payed full attention to what ever she said. He did not look at the waitress who took their orders with suffocated breasts in her bra. After dinner, they went out for a stroll. It was a late pleasant night. He took her in his arms and they walked, lost in a stupor. She did not want to leave him. She did not want to go back to her basement woes. She wanted to walk with him, under his arms, for ever and ever. Then he suggested they stay in a hotel. It was late he said and they were both tired. She was not sure how to respond. She had gone through this part many times. Love overcame her panic. She agreed before she could think.

It was a large room and the sheets were clean. The city of New York was like strewn stars till the horizon through the windows of the penthouse suite. She held her hand to her mouth and inspected the hotel room. The standalone bathtub gave her ideas. There was a bottle of champagne with a card on the table. She walked to the window and gazed at the endless flickering city lights. He came behind her and held her in his arms. He pecked endless kisses on her neck and whispered; “I Love You.” She lost all control. She turned around and kissed him passionately. She fell into his arms and sobbed like a child. “Please don’t betray me.” She whispered. They opened the champagne and they made love in the bathtub. They kissed and they laughed all through the night and clung onto each other, glued with emotions. They made love again on the bed. Later he fell asleep. She watched him sleep like a baby. He looked so innocent in his sleep. She kissed him again and again and gazed at his face. This was him, her prince charming.

His arm was still around her and he was holding her firmly even in his sleep. The colors returned to her life once again in the otherwise drab city. She remembered her past. This was a slap on the boys who lied to her. This was an end to her misery. This was the news she wanted her mom to hear. She sat there, in his arms, smiling. A distant fear held her mind very gently.......

A strange night out

I have forgotten how it feels to be in love. I don’t know if I ever will. My clock starts off for work and ends with work. I do not like to believe that I am too ambitious nor is it true that I care less about others or myself. I guess it’s just another phase in life where you just like to work and forget everything else. I get restless when I stroll around with my friends. I feel useless. I challenged my self tonight. It’s 4 am and I am hurrying to note this down. I went through a strange night.

I went out with a friend of mine. I had known her for a good one year and we are pretty close. We did not really have any plans for the night. We just decided we will go bowling and maybe watch a movie if we weren’t too tired. We weren’t sure which way we should go. It’s a big city, New York is, and it’s just damn hard to decide which place to go to. There are just too many cool places to hangout. She decided I should meet her boyfriend. I said that was a great idea.

He was a cool guy. I really liked him. I am not very social and I was a bit nervous but I think we had the right vibes. We were talking and laughing like old buddies in two minutes. I thought my friend was lucky. She got a gentleman of a boyfriend. I thought they both were. They were a perfect couple.

We took a taxi downtown. It was a long ride and the driver did not know the address. I jumped into the front seat and cramped myself up against the dash board. Not that I am a tall guy, but there was simply just enough space for his pack lunch. They started kissing and whispering those mumbo jumbos lovers normally do. I fumbled with my phone. I pulled a long conversation with the driver. We talked about cars, we talked about the economy, we both cursed wall street and Bush’s stupidity, we talked a lot of nonsense. I heard everything my friends did in the back seat. I pretended I did not hear them. I don’t know why I had to even pretend.

The hangout place was closed when we got there. We okayed it in our best pleasant natures and decided we will just go bar hopping. We strolled around in circles looking for a nice place to lounge and get some drinks. It was midnight and every damn bar was either closed or were not accepting anymore clients for the night.That’s what happens on a Tuesday night. We finally hopped into a diner and got some food for my friend’s boyfriend as he was near starving. I gulped three beers in 20 minutes. That was stupid. I am not supposed to drink that much.

They kissed and they whispered. I shifted in my seat and I played every darned game on my iPhone. I tried to stare at the waitress, I ordered another beer. I tapped my feet to the cheap techno music that was blasting. I heard everything they whispered. I saw everything they did through the corner of my eyes. Suddenly I am supernatural. I could see, feel and hear everything that went on in between them without actually looking at them. I became very uncomfortable in my seat. I ordered another beer and slipped 50 dollars into the waitress’ hand. She gave me a big smile and a hearty thank you.

My friends announced they were done. Finally!

I took the check and they tried to take it away from me. We were three generous people fighting to pay the bill. I won.

Next we decided we should go try the hookah bar as non of us had tried it before. We took the train this time. It was a mistake. it was 3 am and we were the only three people in the car. It rocked and swayed for good thirty minutes to get us to Queens. I felt l was on the train all night. I am sure it felt like five minutes to them. They kissed and they whispered all the way while I fumbled and played with my phone. I had never found so much use of my phone before.

Our hookah party did not go well as well. We walked up and down the street looking for a friendly place to party. Every bar was smoke filled and they sold no drinks. Yes, they do not sell drinks there. I learnt it tonight. We walked and walked. She clung onto him and I walked infront of them. I got my GPS working on my phone to take us to a bar with actual drinks. She complained she had a pain in her leg and she started limping. I offered we should take a short rest on the bench. She wanted to get to a bar so we could get something to eat and drink. We walked all about, but it was almost four in the morning and every shop was closed. Finally I announced we should probably go home and get some sleep. He readily welcomed it. She was not ready. I understand her. It is always that hard part where you have to say good bye. He lived far from where she lived. I was her guest so I was going home with her. We walked another mile and went into an Indian Restaurant that was still open. We stayed in there till 4 am. There was a nice looking girl from Nepal. She was probably happy to finally see some folks who spoke her language. She was really pleasant and told us she worked from 7 pm to 5 am. I felt sad for her but I had no mood to talk. All I wanted to do was get home and jump into my bed.

I thanked heavens when they finally decided for real this time that we should go home. They hugged and they kissed. I played with my phone still and strolled around. He took a taxi home and she watched him till the red tail lights disappeared around the corner. We crawled into the house on tip toes.She kicked off her shoes at the door. There was blood on her shoes. She showed me her feet. Shit, she was bleeding. There was a nail sticking out from the soles of her shoes. She had the nail in her shoes all night! Damn, that was some serious love. God bless them both. I said good night to my friend and went into the room I was given. This is me right now, 5 am in the morning, wide awake and blogging. Oh, my friend just came in and dropped two bottles of Heineken beer. It’s not even cold and she insists that I should drink them both. I never drank in bed. She went to her room on tip toes again and closed the door behind her. Here I am, with two bottles of beer on my bedside, lying back in bed, not sleeping and writing this piece........