Friday, December 29, 2006
Dreaming Of Calamba
He's walking along a tree-lined road. A few children's playing by the road side. They waved as he passed by, but he paid no heed.. His mind is racing towards the house. A small house with a rusty old gate.

Ring, Ring..

"Sir, telephone call for you. Its the client from Kyoto." A secretary in pink places the phone in his hand. She bows and walks backward slowly. He takes the phone and listens to the person on the other side.. Something about software bugs, and asking for support.. The client is talking about the details, but he is unable to hear, everything is melting.. fading away..

He is irritated. The tree-lined road has no pavement and as such is prone to having mud particularly on rainy days. But why did it rain on this day? He even put on his best white shoes, but now its turning muddy. But no matter, the house is near now..

"Hello!?" The client said "Are you there?" Yes he said apologetically. Of course, the support will be there. So sorry for the trouble.

He really should stop this he muttered to himself. It was over five years ago. Too long, too long. And the name of the one who lives in the house, he doesnt even speak of that name. Not her name. Not anymore.

"Sir, the general manager is waiting" The secretary again apears, holding a stack of envelopes under her left arm. The man notices the flower on her breast. Four small white petals. A winter flower. The man rose and followed the secretary to a room. He sits and took a look of concentration. To everyone he appears attentive and thoughtful.. but he is unable to hear, everything is melting.. fading away..

The winter flower.. It is here too, surrounding the house. Small and white, the man stopped and picked one. The one living in the house always, she did liked this flower best. He gathers some more. Three to be exact.

"And our sales projection for the year" the manager continues to speak.. But the man is unable to hear, everything is melting.. fading away..

He is at the gate now. The gates are rusty. He made a mental note to polish them. They should be white, she always wanted white..

"Ring!, ring!".. He is back in his office. Sitting on his chair, listening to the company chime announce the end of the day. But the man is unable to hear, everything is melting.. fading away..

"Ring!, ring!".. He is ringing the doorbell. Someone answers. The one living in the house is not visible from the shadows. But she is there. That one is always there. The man smiles inwardly. Yes, he tells himself, I've reached the house. Everything is good. everything is good here.. He goes inside.. He is happy. For the only time in his life, he is truly happy.

"Ring!, ring!"..

The morning alarm clock goes off. The man suddenly rises. Another day. He takes a shower and eats his breakfast. The man goes outside and walks towards the train station.. nobody is up at this early hour. The morning mist still covering everything. But everything is melting.. fading away..

He's walking along a tree-lined road.. A few children's playing by the road side. They waved as he passed by, but he paid no heed.. His mind is racing towards the house. A small house with a rusty old gate.

It is near now...




 
posted by Nezha at 2:14 AM | Permalink |


3 Comments:


  • At 5:13 AM, Anonymous fujiwara

    daydreaming daydreamer

     
  • At 3:02 AM, Blogger pawntorook4

    hey im having trouble uploading games to blogger using that chess publisher program you use, i get an html error.. im cutting and pasting the code from chess publisher directly to my post.. give a brother a hand here.. happy new year!!

     
  • At 4:18 AM, Blogger Nezha

    The code has an erroneous quotation there somewhere. Paste the code here and i'll paste the correction (Code cant remember the exact location of the code)