page 18 |
"It would look more dignified," she would say. He never listened to her. Now he can't even hear her. The sign beckons stronger than ever: "O'Malley's Pub." Fluorescent green tubes, Still shining brilliantly in the rain, Never made him so happy before. Bartender inquires, "What's it gonna be?" "The usual," he replies, Staring at meaningless posters The break up the stretches of lime green wall. The stench of cigarettes and alcohol Permeates the room--he breathes in deeply, And loves it. Stranger seated beside him, Never even noticed her. She turns to face him, Light gently dances across her face, Slowly illuminating perfect features, And shoulder-length brown hair A little over 5 feet off the ground. "Are you okay? You look horrible." It was all she could say. He furiously rubs his eyes, Trying unsuccessfully to drown His worries in the tears. "They lied," he says with resignation. "Alan...Jack..all of them...they lied." --Gaurav Sud |
page 20 |
|
|
|
|
|