I stood at the bus stop, watching the fading light, and vaguely made out a bus that disturbed my gaze. Faintly brought back to reality, I found myself sitting by the window, not remembering how I'd gotten there. My thoughts were in a whirl and I did not have the strength to listen to myself; I watched the ever shifting canopy of trees from the window instead, feeling very childlike as the sun winked at me. It hadn't been an easy week...
I don't know how, but it seemed like half an hour had gone by without touching me. I found myself walking a familiar yet strange path, detachedly observing my stiffened muscles working themselves. I let my feet decide and found myself in a park I'd been to a couple of times; only this time, it was dark and void of people except a few fleeting shadows in the trees. I was just glad that I couldn't see anyone on the path ahead and that I had no idea where it ended.
Last week, I'd driven by this park, getting fleeting glances of blurred colour that was children running about as I excitedly told him how the last few weeks at my new job had been. I hadn't realised that he'd been unnaturally quiet as I chattered on, until much later. A box of chocolates and "nice" note is all I have left of him now. Apparently, my job was my life and he felt too sidelined to even talk to me directly about it.
I sighed! I'd found my dream job just about three months ago; I'd always liked to cook and to get a job under the city's most famous chef... My job had been my life.
A sudden shiver brought me out of my reverie; rain had made its pattern on my clothes as I sat on the frail looking swing. I looked at the lamp a little away and watched as the spray of raindrops slowed down in the light. I was glad for the rain as I was ashamed to let go and cry, until now. At the back of my head I tried to cheer myself up by being uncomfortable for recreating a cliche. I was relieved nonetheless; to be finally able to let go of the embarrassment, anger and disbelief. I began to swing to and fro as I struggled with myself, trying not to relive the moments of a few hours ago.
I'd been fired, in front of the whole kitchen. The chef saved these only for the worst; in one night I seemed to have thrown away my career. Unfortunately, it was a calculated move on my part.
As my anger poured out, the thunder adding to my release, I rose higher and higher. I went over that evening in detail, and almost felt that angst again. It had been a blow right before I'd made my decision. The chef did not like his recipes changed, no matter what and I had gone out on a limb.
But as my shattered life hit me, I closed my eyes and saw it again, the chef's face right as he tasted MY soup. His eyes closed involuntarily and I could clearly see him take his time with it.
The swing's momentum carried me to the highest point, I could almost taste the heady scent of all the different flavours that had filled the kitchen. They brought all my senses rushing back and I laughed. Sure I had to start from scratch in almost all aspects of my life, but I'd made the city's best chef savour my soup and that is all that mattered right now.
The lightening lit the path as I jumped off the swing; my steps lighter and my clothes soaked, I walked home.
I don't know how, but it seemed like half an hour had gone by without touching me. I found myself walking a familiar yet strange path, detachedly observing my stiffened muscles working themselves. I let my feet decide and found myself in a park I'd been to a couple of times; only this time, it was dark and void of people except a few fleeting shadows in the trees. I was just glad that I couldn't see anyone on the path ahead and that I had no idea where it ended.
Last week, I'd driven by this park, getting fleeting glances of blurred colour that was children running about as I excitedly told him how the last few weeks at my new job had been. I hadn't realised that he'd been unnaturally quiet as I chattered on, until much later. A box of chocolates and "nice" note is all I have left of him now. Apparently, my job was my life and he felt too sidelined to even talk to me directly about it.
I sighed! I'd found my dream job just about three months ago; I'd always liked to cook and to get a job under the city's most famous chef... My job had been my life.
A sudden shiver brought me out of my reverie; rain had made its pattern on my clothes as I sat on the frail looking swing. I looked at the lamp a little away and watched as the spray of raindrops slowed down in the light. I was glad for the rain as I was ashamed to let go and cry, until now. At the back of my head I tried to cheer myself up by being uncomfortable for recreating a cliche. I was relieved nonetheless; to be finally able to let go of the embarrassment, anger and disbelief. I began to swing to and fro as I struggled with myself, trying not to relive the moments of a few hours ago.
I'd been fired, in front of the whole kitchen. The chef saved these only for the worst; in one night I seemed to have thrown away my career. Unfortunately, it was a calculated move on my part.
As my anger poured out, the thunder adding to my release, I rose higher and higher. I went over that evening in detail, and almost felt that angst again. It had been a blow right before I'd made my decision. The chef did not like his recipes changed, no matter what and I had gone out on a limb.
But as my shattered life hit me, I closed my eyes and saw it again, the chef's face right as he tasted MY soup. His eyes closed involuntarily and I could clearly see him take his time with it.
The swing's momentum carried me to the highest point, I could almost taste the heady scent of all the different flavours that had filled the kitchen. They brought all my senses rushing back and I laughed. Sure I had to start from scratch in almost all aspects of my life, but I'd made the city's best chef savour my soup and that is all that mattered right now.
The lightening lit the path as I jumped off the swing; my steps lighter and my clothes soaked, I walked home.
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