...Here Lies The Work Whore.


badly missing them

There I was--absorbing pain exactly the way I often attract negative volts from the sad and tragic stories of people in war; how they survived bullets that could have pierced--fatally--through their flesh but nevertheless still ripped a part of their lives, teasing the little sanity left of them. Outside, the sea started to darken the shores; leaving the expanse in perfect shade of bleak. And the highway--surprisingly 'bumpless'--became a bosom of frenzied vehicles, fearless but never ready for a clash, no matter how minor it could be. As stories always get the better of me, the body contorted itself to fit into whatever is left of the cramped white car; the eyes eclipsing voluntarily to separately meet him and her in the recesses of my past.