Sunday, March 8, 2009 at 12:47am |
The world plunged into a deep silence. No sound of living things craddling their way through the night. Only machines as the company to give comfort and to shed some light. The boy was sitting in front of his desk. Reading. Typing. Browsing. All in silence. Then he stopped. It's 1.28 a.m. It's been 26 minutes since he finished his business. The long awaited day which coming he's been dreading for he doesn't know of what will happen on the next morning, finally came and left him with nothing but silence. Mystery, yes that's the challenge he faces everyday. With the hope of fairy tale along the way, he imagined himself back home. Back where his business was started.
Two months has passed since he let the thought lingered in his head. Pseudo-happiness or whatever the term is, is what he experienced so far. Not the entirely whole two months, but the time sufficient enough to consume him in anger, grief, desperation, hope, and joy. He continues reading his book, the book that surprisingly draw his attention and to which he said kudos because it managed to keep him stop thinking about the business he made.
The silence dwells longer than he expected. Not a single sound manage to distract him, besides there isn't any. He had turned off his cell phone for a while. He wasn't prepared to face anything that may happen (or may never happen) after his business is done. He drank a cup of cammomile tea in hope to cast the insomnia away, he finished watching a new movie that he's loving now and then he turned on his cell phone.
Dark and silent is the hue of the night. As he types the words he's amazed on how he could manage to produce these words, phrase, clause, sentence, up to the level of passage which is the highest hierarchy his lecturer once taught him. He feels silence's steps in his head and in his room. He's surprised on how long he could stand to let silence feed upon him after what he's been expecting is a ring on his cell phone.
The silence has relinquished his domain. He heard steps outside the window. He heard glass clattered and water running. The pantry, his mind interrupted. Steps approaching, nevertheless he knows that they are not heading to his room. He's done. Done for today. Done with his writing. Done with his reading. Done with waiting for uncertainty. Done for letting the business left undone. Inside his dark warm room, he lays himself on the bed. He closes his eyes and prays for the silence to enchant and take him to his realm where dreams are real and reality is just not there. It's done, yes, he has done it.
-LSy-
The world plunged into a deep silence. No sound of living things craddling their way through the night. Only machines as the company to give comfort and to shed some light. The boy was sitting in front of his desk. Reading. Typing. Browsing. All in silence. Then he stopped. It's 1.28 a.m. It's been 26 minutes since he finished his business. The long awaited day which coming he's been dreading for he doesn't know of what will happen on the next morning, finally came and left him with nothing but silence. Mystery, yes that's the challenge he faces everyday. With the hope of fairy tale along the way, he imagined himself back home. Back where his business was started.
Two months has passed since he let the thought lingered in his head. Pseudo-happiness or whatever the term is, is what he experienced so far. Not the entirely whole two months, but the time sufficient enough to consume him in anger, grief, desperation, hope, and joy. He continues reading his book, the book that surprisingly draw his attention and to which he said kudos because it managed to keep him stop thinking about the business he made.
The silence dwells longer than he expected. Not a single sound manage to distract him, besides there isn't any. He had turned off his cell phone for a while. He wasn't prepared to face anything that may happen (or may never happen) after his business is done. He drank a cup of cammomile tea in hope to cast the insomnia away, he finished watching a new movie that he's loving now and then he turned on his cell phone.
Dark and silent is the hue of the night. As he types the words he's amazed on how he could manage to produce these words, phrase, clause, sentence, up to the level of passage which is the highest hierarchy his lecturer once taught him. He feels silence's steps in his head and in his room. He's surprised on how long he could stand to let silence feed upon him after what he's been expecting is a ring on his cell phone.
The silence has relinquished his domain. He heard steps outside the window. He heard glass clattered and water running. The pantry, his mind interrupted. Steps approaching, nevertheless he knows that they are not heading to his room. He's done. Done for today. Done with his writing. Done with his reading. Done with waiting for uncertainty. Done for letting the business left undone. Inside his dark warm room, he lays himself on the bed. He closes his eyes and prays for the silence to enchant and take him to his realm where dreams are real and reality is just not there. It's done, yes, he has done it.
-LSy-
