Warmth

The water was cold. The one time she had counted on the warmth of the water to engulf her whole, to somehow soothe her, it was cold.

It wasn’t fair. Hadn’t the sun been shining on the water tank all day? Had the sun lost all its heat? Could it be possible that the sun felt as cold and numb as herself? 

No. At any rate the sun was supposed to heat the water. That was its job. The water was supposed to be boiling hot. She was supposed to complain about that. Was it normal to feel as if her entire blood had clotted in this heat?

She waited a few seconds before she bravely endeavoured into the cold shower. She hoped that somehow it would get warmer. Surely it must, it couldn’t be this cold. It just couldn’t.

She could feel herslf shivering but at the same time felt nothing at all. Numb. Then she remembered she was probably tired. She had been up for so long… And she hadn’t had anything to eat, either. She was probably low on energy.

Trying to be as brave as she could, struggled to keep her hands steady as she reached for the shampoo. The lump in her throat kept getting bigger and bigger until she decided it would be better to cry here, alone, than outside. But that feeling of numbness wouldn’t let her. She could feel the storm building up inside her… waiting for the wrong moment to come out. Well, she thought, i’ll just have to artificially initiate it. But as she did so, the muscles on her face seemed to be stretched too much somehow. It felt too artificial. She couldn’t do it. It was too much. She needed warmth.

Random Stuff I Write During Class

The ring played in her fingertips. The thumb rolled it over to the middle finger, which passed it to the index finger. The ring was constantly being rolled over, sometimes this way, sometimes that way, nimble fingers playing…

And then, all of a sudden, it slipped from the index finger. It fell, fell, fell into a dark abyss between all five fingers, and landed quite abruptly in the palm. As if in shock, all five fingers froze, unsure as to what was to be done now. The pause was only for a moment, though. But it still felt like an eternity before the thumb reached down and, slowly, took hold of one edge inside the ring. It half-dragged, half-rolled it upwards. As the ring ascended, the index finger, quite nervous now, reached down too and took hold of the other edge. With a united effort, the ring was once again held up to be crowned on the tips of the fingers.

The girl sat beside her, and the motions of the fingers and the ring had her mesmerized. She looked, and she saw. The fall of the ring, the rise of the ring, the way it moved with the gentle movements of those fingers. She almost gave a cry of despair as the ring fell, and joy filled her eyes like tears as the ring rose.

The girl to whom the hand belonged, however, saw the ring unseeingly. Her mind was away, far away, thinking thoughts that were better unthought, the epicenter of which was that ring. Her lower lip trembled, but the eyes stared defiantly at the ring. The ring, however, had drowned in its new-found self-importance, and was oblivious to the world.

The bell rang, all was lost. All was lost.

Days

There is no concept of dates in this place, just days. Endless days.

Malignant Monday spreads like a cancer through Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sanity Day.

A continuous whirlwind of days and days – wrapping around you, engulfing you, and then, finally, strangling you. Suffocating you.

“Dates” are unique. Dates are specific but days….. the sameness and monotony overcome all senses of reason and logic. So you find yourself swimming in a vast water space, with no sign of shore.

 


Or ranting about ‘days’. What is wrong with me?!