It's funny that you had similar dreams like I do back then. Something tells me that those dreams are interwoven with a message that may be a prophecy bestowed upon us by the heavens, not that I believe in such supernatural entities or power, but these coincidental occurrences are very questionable--especially what the series of events that were unraveled after that. A few days after we met, I noticed that your apartment building was just across the street from my house. Well, before you accuse me of being a stalker, I just so happened to spot you that morning when I opened the blinds to the early morning of the sun's glory. The illumination stalked every bit of the earth and I saw you hurl yourself into the car seat with much difficulty. Every time you took yourself for a ride, you would always come back empty-handed and never see you carry back any groceries.
There was this one time my own car broke down and the transit bus took long enough, leaving me roasted under the gasy heat that gushed through the morning. I fidgeted with my guitar strap while the guitar case felt heavier, and I battled its gravity with a hunched back. My impatience festered while the heat did not help me cope with it, but threw oil in the flaring madness. After much thought, I walked back from the bus stop, defeated, and was planning to give up on going to the band's gig until I saw you hurling yourself into your car.
Without much thought, I bolted to the driver window and gave a few heavy knocks, that echoed the sound of sharp window-pane, and you nearly flew from your seat while fishing for a pepper-spray.
"It's me." I said blankly. Your expression became distorted until it eased.
"How do you..." you faltered.
"Look, I need to get to my band's gig or else I'll be fired. Can just give me a quick lift? It's a 10-minute drive from here."
"You're in a band--"
"Just let me get in your car. Here, I'll let you stay in the gig for as long as you want....free of charge."
A devilish smile stretched across your face--in compliance, I assume--while I entered the passenger seat, bumping my head along the way while stuffing the guitar in the back seat.
"So, you play guitar?" you inquired while those words pestered my tempting anger, trying not to succumb to stirring a quarrel.
"Can we just...fucking go?" I insisted impatiently while nearly strangling myself with the seat-belt.
"Not until you tell me--"
"Yes! Can we go now?"
I assume that aroused your interest to toy with me a little more later on. You turned on the ignition and the vehicle began trudging forward.
Without looking back.
YOU ARE READING
Life Among the Pastures
FantasyThe story centers around two characters that exchange letters throughout the years (hence the book is written in a letter-style) who tries to solve the mystery of what happened when that day, years and years ago, when they were lost beyond the pastu...
