We were holding each other in our arms, at one dark corner in the maze, dancing slowly to a song. I tried very hard, but I couldn’t recall which song was it already. Perhaps your perfume will do the trick. I remember asking you what you do for a living. You said I’ll know in due time.
Two weeks ago…
I received the 280th SMS you sent for the month, and I realised typing in Chinese is really not that time-consuming after all. By now, I have come to know your entire family’s history (how you ran away from home, escaping from the marriage planned quietly behind your back, your family was trying to save themselves from the disgrace of a son gone wild perhaps?), the names of all your dogs (and a detailed account of how you have rescued each of them from their previous owners), and how you ended with a clean-shaven head (you said it saves you from the trouble of having to visit the hairdresser every month, but then to keep it clean-shaven, you now have to go every week instead.. I think you lost a bet). You still didn’t tell me what you do for a living.
Two days ago…
I was kissing your neck again on the sofa, watching Formula 17. Too bad I didn’t know how it ends, coz we were doing things more passionate then the lead actors in the movie, and then we had to switch to your bedroom for a more comfortable setting. It was a hot afternoon; good thing you had two fans running at the same time. I continued to admire the quaint apartment you had when we were putting on our shoes at the door. Your pull me towards you for one last hug. I watched as you disappeared into the monorail coach. I still don’t know what you do for a living.
Two minutes ago…
I received the first SMS from you since two days ago. You said you have been busy. With what? WORK? Where? What? How? WHY?
BRAVEHEART [75]
No comments:
Post a Comment