thoughts.
Footsteps.
Alone.
Take one after the other.
Barbed wire now
Where do I jump?
Who do I listen to?
Daisy sun, maroon sky.
First part of the sun — a frown.
Last part of the sun — a smile.
Dark day.
Thoughts cover the sky.
Thoughts are the sky.
Feet on fence.
One side of the fence is victory….
The … other side is defeat.
Walk.
I walk, on.
Deciding.
Sweat reigns.
It lands on me, controlled, and drips down my face.
Victory one side.
Defeat on the other.
Clouds are uncertain.
They throb in the sky like drumbeats, like pulses.
I decide —
I jump.
High. High.
The wind gets me, and high up, I know that it will throw me down to the side of the fence it wants.
Wherever I land, soon enough, I know I will have to climb back up and keep walking, but for now, I’m still in the air.
CHAPTER 14
Where did I go from there?
What did I do?
How did things turn out?
Well, this is basically the end, so the answers should be in these next few pages. I doubt they will surprise you, but you never know. I don’t know howsmart or thick you are. You could be Albert Einstein for all I know, or some literary prizewinner, or maybe you’re just middle of the road like me.
So we might as well cut to the chase — I will tell you now how things pretty much finished up in this wintry part of my life. The end began like this:
Moping.
I did it for the whole of Sunday, and on Monday at school. Something churned in me, start in my stomach and rising till it was reaching its arms up to strip my skin from the inside. It burned.
On Wednesday at school, I had a bit of a conversation with Greg, mainly because of the beaten-up look of his face.
“What happened to you?” I asked him when I ran into him in one of the walkways.
“Ah, forget it,” he answered me. “Nothin’.” But we both knew it was really pretty obvious that the fellashe’d bought the gear for were still unimpressed by his efforts, even after he’d come through with the money.
“They got you anyway, ay?” I asked. I smiled mournfully as I said it and Greg smiled as well.
“Yep, they got me,” he nodded. His smile was a knowing, ironic one. “They decided on giving me a hidin’ for the inconvenience I’d caused them…. The original guy was out of gear so they had to go somewhere else. They weren’t impressed.”
“Fair enough” was my conclusion.
“I s’pose, yeah.”
We parted ways a few moments later, and looking back at him, I looked at Greg and tried praying for him, like all those prayers I had made earlier on in this story, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. Don’t ask me why. I hoped that he was okay, but I couldn’t summon the strength to pray for it.
What good had my prayers done anyway?
They sure as hell hadn’t helped my own cause too much — but remember? I never did get around to praying for myself, did I? Maybe that’s what was behind it, though. Myself. Maybe the only reason I’d prayed for others to begin with was to bring myself good fortune. Was that true? Was it? No. No way. It wasn’t.
Maybe the prayers did actually work.
It’s quite probable when you think about it, because back home, Sarah had started talking on the phone to replace the intense getting-off sessions on the couch,Steve was starting to walk again, Rube had sorted himself out a bit, Mum and Dad seemed happy enough, and no doubt Rebecca Conlon was happy fantasizing about Dale Perry….
It seemed that everyone was going along just fine.
Except me.
Quite often, I found myself chanting the word
misery,
like the pitiful creature I was.
I whinged inside.
I whined.
I whimpered.
I scratched at my insides.
Then I laughed.
At myself.
It happened when I was out in the evening, after dinn
The sausages and mushrooms were settling in my stomach and amongst all the anguish I was carrying around, a very weird laughter broke through me. As I lifted my feet over the ground, I smiled and eventually placed my hand on a telegraph
Footsteps.
Alone.
Take one after the other.
Barbed wire now
Where do I jump?
Who do I listen to?
Daisy sun, maroon sky.
First part of the sun — a frown.
Last part of the sun — a smile.
Dark day.
Thoughts cover the sky.
Thoughts are the sky.
Feet on fence.
One side of the fence is victory….
The … other side is defeat.
Walk.
I walk, on.
Deciding.
Sweat reigns.
It lands on me, controlled, and drips down my face.
Victory one side.
Defeat on the other.
Clouds are uncertain.
They throb in the sky like drumbeats, like pulses.
I decide —
I jump.
High. High.
The wind gets me, and high up, I know that it will throw me down to the side of the fence it wants.
Wherever I land, soon enough, I know I will have to climb back up and keep walking, but for now, I’m still in the air.
CHAPTER 14
Where did I go from there?
What did I do?
How did things turn out?
Well, this is basically the end, so the answers should be in these next few pages. I doubt they will surprise you, but you never know. I don’t know howsmart or thick you are. You could be Albert Einstein for all I know, or some literary prizewinner, or maybe you’re just middle of the road like me.
So we might as well cut to the chase — I will tell you now how things pretty much finished up in this wintry part of my life. The end began like this:
Moping.
I did it for the whole of Sunday, and on Monday at school. Something churned in me, start in my stomach and rising till it was reaching its arms up to strip my skin from the inside. It burned.
On Wednesday at school, I had a bit of a conversation with Greg, mainly because of the beaten-up look of his face.
“What happened to you?” I asked him when I ran into him in one of the walkways.
“Ah, forget it,” he answered me. “Nothin’.” But we both knew it was really pretty obvious that the fellashe’d bought the gear for were still unimpressed by his efforts, even after he’d come through with the money.
“They got you anyway, ay?” I asked. I smiled mournfully as I said it and Greg smiled as well.
“Yep, they got me,” he nodded. His smile was a knowing, ironic one. “They decided on giving me a hidin’ for the inconvenience I’d caused them…. The original guy was out of gear so they had to go somewhere else. They weren’t impressed.”
“Fair enough” was my conclusion.
“I s’pose, yeah.”
We parted ways a few moments later, and looking back at him, I looked at Greg and tried praying for him, like all those prayers I had made earlier on in this story, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. Don’t ask me why. I hoped that he was okay, but I couldn’t summon the strength to pray for it.
What good had my prayers done anyway?
They sure as hell hadn’t helped my own cause too much — but remember? I never did get around to praying for myself, did I? Maybe that’s what was behind it, though. Myself. Maybe the only reason I’d prayed for others to begin with was to bring myself good fortune. Was that true? Was it? No. No way. It wasn’t.
Maybe the prayers did actually work.
It’s quite probable when you think about it, because back home, Sarah had started talking on the phone to replace the intense getting-off sessions on the couch,Steve was starting to walk again, Rube had sorted himself out a bit, Mum and Dad seemed happy enough, and no doubt Rebecca Conlon was happy fantasizing about Dale Perry….
It seemed that everyone was going along just fine.
Except me.
Quite often, I found myself chanting the word
misery,
like the pitiful creature I was.
I whinged inside.
I whined.
I whimpered.
I scratched at my insides.
Then I laughed.
At myself.
It happened when I was out in the evening, after dinn
The sausages and mushrooms were settling in my stomach and amongst all the anguish I was carrying around, a very weird laughter broke through me. As I lifted my feet over the ground, I smiled and eventually placed my hand on a telegraph
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