The roads are almost invisible. Even my car hesitated to start. Wish I had stayed home a little longer, had a second cup of coffee, just enough time to buy for the foggy skies to clear. But my restless heart told me yet again, to just take a chance. So here I am, slowly making my way to work, on a less than ordinary morning. Patience has become a lost virtue.
As I get on to work, the chain of thoughts continues. Which one I like more? A foggy sky that reminds me of Delhi or the blue sky of Little Rock, I wonder. Am I truly living in this moment or am I hung in time between then and now, like a piece of art in a museum, from centuries ago? I see three abrasion marks on my left wrist, each a cm long and parallel to the other, screaming of their existence and I’m surprised where they came from. My memory fails.
Today is gone, tomorrow is as uncertain as the number of times I will wake up tonight, sweaty and anxious. The clock tells me it’s time to sleep. I wonder who is more helpless? The clock ticking away, having no time to stop or a mind that knows how to stop but doesn’t. I retire to bed wondering.
Next morning, another year has passed…
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