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|A Simple Story (Prelude and Verses-Edited-) (standard:romance, 3765 words) [1/5] show all parts|
|Author: sickboy||Updated: Oct 22 2002||Views/Reads: 1961/1672||Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|2 hearts crossed, one was taken...|
Prelude “You got a name?” “Does it matter?” “What?” “Does it matter? I mean, does it matter if I had a name? Knowing a name doesn't make a difference as to who I am or what kind of a person I am or what your impression of me would be... so does it matter?” “Guess not...” ... ... “Sue...” “Kay...” 1800 hours. The station was packed, invaded almost completely by collars and ties and suitcases intoxicated with the subconsciously elevated anxiety of rocketing to their destinations. I said “almost”, ‘cause I was there too. I was no collar or tie or suitcase. I was an un-tucked shirt and cargo pants, a backpack on my back without any hyped-anxiety, heading for the other side of the city. I said “almost”, ‘cause you were there too. You weren't a collar or a tie or an office dress for that matter. You were a fitting white T-shirt, blue jeans, a relatively tiny backpack and straight, dark, beautiful short hair with coolness beyond comprehension. You sat on one of the benches with a Discman-headset on (not the huge, round kitchen-sponge-lookalike type, just the tiny, fit-in-your-ear-type) and a book in your hand (not the giant type, just a small modest paperback.) Right there, in the middle of all the stereotypes and all the anxiety and the tiredness, in the middle of the rush and the boredom and the sudden slowness of passing time, you were like a green, luxuriant tree sitting smacked in the middle of a lifeless concrete jungle. Fresh, cool, calm, and strikingly different. Okay, so I didn't notice you that much at first. What do you expect? I'm no talent scout. Living the lives we live, we've forgotten to look around ourselves so often till we never realized that the most wonderful things are always found in the most unexpectedly common places... Takes the fun out of living, doesn't it? “Dung, dong. Dung, dong.” The much-awaited train-doors finally opened, only to reveal the contents of its belly bearing a striking resemblance to a freshly opened sardine-can. Suddenly, the entire platform turned into a giant aquarium with its floodgates opened: sardines crushing each other, forcing their way out to the open sea while other fishes from the platform fought and squeezed and pushed to get into the long, opened sardine can. At a certain point, all were seemingly frozen in a moment where the two huge waves of land-pseudo-aquatic-creatures collided, each crashing towards the opposite direction. Yet, amazingly the freeze lasted for only a second or two, then in some miraculous way, the two waves crashed safely to the other side. I hate to admit it, but I was one of the fishes who nearly gave my life away suffocating through that one or two seconds and could proudly announce that I am, now, a sardine for the next 45 minutes... That's when I really noticed you. But then again, who wouldn't? For there you remain seated, with your headset and your book and your coolness while the platform rumbled for the past two seconds. Then, after the collision, you closed your book, calmly stood up, and walked into the train while asking to be excused, just in time to feel the mild breeze of the doors closing behind you. “The approximate stationary time of every train at a station is 7 seconds. Minus two halves of a second for the opening and closing of the doors and minus 2-3 seconds of human traffic, that gives about 3 seconds minimum to board the train. Ample time.” Click here to read the rest of this story (517 more lines)
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