Sunday, March 8, 2009

The Sleepers

It was another night of the maddening summer breeze, the smoky moon, the crazy rhymes, and the music but tomorrow she was leaving. One night, just one night was all that was left and it was ironic that she was a nocturnal creature. The darkness always did something to her. She couldn’t explain what but it was something like having five shots of vodka all at once. She felt light headed. Her tolerance level was pretty low. She always got too emotional when she drank and she couldn’t afford to get emotional tonight. On nights like this one had to think straight.
The long winding roads, the grassy patches and the shady trees, they were all haunted. There were creatures there forever lurking in the shadows. She had often met them on her daily rendezvous. They followed her, watched her but seldom spoke. And that silence was like a trap. But tonight she pretended that no one was watching, she wanted to think and for that she needed to be alone.
There was a man of course. Her life wasn’t above the wishy-washy sob story. He was her muse. She always laughed at the idea. He was no goddess or god for that matter, just a poor man with airs and a bad poet. But she knew he’d beg to differ. He’d say she was his muse and that the word described her better than it did him. But words had a dangerous way of being biased. Language after all was a medium of the powerful. But did that mean he was superior to her? She never bothered to find out.
It sufficed that she felt he was being ridiculous when he called her his muse. For muses were not supposed to answer. And she always answered all the bad rhymes he dedicated to her with other bad rhymes. He never said anything but she supposed he didn’t like it. Sometimes she thought he too was like those creatures that lurked behind shadows and never spoke. They both had a way of beating her down with silence.
But it was just one night, one more night of performing the masquerade. It was strange that she had begun to enjoy it. There was a weird thrill in the pretence, in trying to guess the truth and the disappointment. Sometimes she almost hated him. Tonight she wanted to dance and hope that the rhythm would purge her. She swayed to the long winding roads, the grassy patches, the shady trees and the haunting. May be there was an escape from it all, she didn’t know when or how but tomorrow she was leaving.