[BGmusic: Leave Your Lover by Sam Smith]
I heard that a story is only complete when someone reads it. Or hears it. My stories (or quasi-stories) rest on the flat of my tongue, waiting for a ready listener. Some have been lying in wait for far too long, growing stale, and at times, rancid. This is an attempt to get some out of my system before they expire.
I see a group of kittens at the train station almost every morning on my way to work. The first time I saw them was a few weeks ago. They were a lot smaller then; today they’re in that awkward phase between kitten- and cathood when their limbs seem a little too stretched out for their tiny faces. The first time I saw them, they were wrestling with each other next to the siomai stand. I paused for a moment to watch and thought of taking a picture, but walked on because I didn’t want to call attention to myself. You’d have approved of that. A group of kittens is called a kindle. Did you know that? I think I may have read that somewhere, but I had to look it up.
Speaking of animals, I saw a cat lying peacefully on the road yesterday while I was riding the FX. It seemed dangerously close to the traffic, and I had to arch my neck to see how it could sleep through all of that noise. It was then that I saw the blood dripping from its ear. :’|
Speaking of dead animals, there was a dead rat lying in the gutter two days ago. In college I had to walk past the same dog carcass every day until it dried up and blew away with the wind, but this morning – thankfully – the dead rat was gone.
The train broke down a few days ago so I had to take the bus on the way to work. Somewhere along EDSA, an old man and a little girl who I assumed was his granddaughter boarded. She sat next to me. I wanted to tell her how pretty she looked in her pink dress and purple faux fur backpack, but didn’t want to scare her. I’d be scared of me.
At the train station, a woman cut in line in front of me. I didn’t say anything because you know how much of a chicken I am, but I remember thinking, “I hope you die a painful death.” I am a terrible person.
I’m trying to teach myself how to be patient with people who don’t understand the most simple concepts right away. “Trying” being the operative word.
I’ve been listening to this new record on loop for some days now. I think you’d like track 4, but my favourite’s track 8. It reminds me of that Frank Sinatra song we both like.
I guess it is possible to turn someone down without being an asshole, after all.
I watched episode 8 of Game of Thrones with one eye behind a blanket, the other squinting. I didn’t catch some of it because I had to look away, but I heard everything. I thought of rewatching what I missed, but decided against it. I thought of calling you up so we could talk about it, but instead, I just tweeted my feelings and went to sleep.
I shouldn’t ever have more than three beers. I just shouldn’t. Please stop me at three next time.