sweety
01-18-2011, 08:09 AM
"Freedom, brothers and sisters, that’s what it's all about." The little man was standing on an orange box that had seen better days. I stopped to listen. "The government's spy-cameras are everywhere."
"On the fiddle, the lot of them!", said a down-and-out.
Ignoring this outburst the man continued from an unsteady podium : " My dear friends, what is freedom...?"
I walked on. His words on freedom and friendship following me. In the underground I opened my newspaper:
"Man's hand bitten-off trying to rescue kitten from dog's mouth."
"The free press refuses to give in to government censorship. We are independent."
"The old lady found dead under her cardboard box home was indeed related to the queen, a collection to bury her has started."
A man sitting directly across from me wearing a top hat stood up, offering his seat to a pregnant woman wearing a niqab.
The greaser with less breeding, wearing black winkle-pickers, got there first to the annoyance of Top Hat.
The girl sitting on the seat next to him smiled, she was holding a smelly baby. "They fart a lot at this age", she said. The greaser hastily retreated.
An East European got on at the next stop, a large piano accordion strapped to his back.
"I trust you have no intention of playing that thing in here", Top Hat said.
Either he didn't speak English or he had a problem with authority figures, for after an amazing feat of gymnastics, he removed the black and white toothed monster and serenaded us with false notes and false hopes.
After taking up a collection he was none too impressed with our generosity and cursed us in a foreign language.
There was a bad smell in the underground, but when the overweight long-haired boy reeking of something one would shake from one's shoe got on, it took a turn for the worse.
The girl with the farting baby offered him her seat holding her nose. She got off at the next stop.
The rays of the platform's plastic neon lights laced the doors of the underground when a tall girl stepped in. Her honey-blond hair bouncing with each step, she had a golden-brown tan, that highlighted her blue almond-shaped eyes. The breeze from the doorway was playing with her light flowing dress that showed off her long slender legs on red high-heels.
The bespectacled middle aged man with a ruddy complexion sitting next to me was doing his utmost to peek under her dress.
I got out at the next stop and looked at the huge metropolis and decided to take a sabbatical. I would leave the city in search of freedom and friendship.
Having put my affairs in order, I stepped on board a train to the middle of nowhere.
On the swaying train, I made my way along the corridor, enjoying the roar and motion, I hummed to the rhythm of its great iron wheels.
Going into the first carriage that had a vacant seat, I threw my rucksack on the overhead rack.
The train chugged along through the unspoilt wilderness. Isolated houses and farms dotted the landscape.
I saw the sun appear above the mountains. The rays shining down on the green hills, lighting up the dark and mystic forest streams.
I looked at a scenery that had changed little over the years. After winding its way through the hillside and passing through several tunnels, the train finally arrived in the middle of nowhere. It was late afternoon.
For eight days and nights I searched for freedom and friendship, but it eluded me. The road to freedom was a long and hard road that I dare-not stray from, lest I be pursued or mauled by farmer's dogs.
"Trespassers will be prosecuted."
"Beware dangerous bull."
"Enter at your own peril."
At the top of a hill I unpacked my binoculars. Looking out to sea I watched a tall ship cross on the horizon.
Sunbathers and sun-cream lovers changing into their swimsuits, running to the sea, a wave crashing over them as they dived into the water, splashing each-other playfully.
I found myself standing alone listening to the whispers that came over the ocean, the mountain stream poured into the sea in a splendid waterfall.
Suddenly the weather changed, a cold wind swirled around me . The gulls flew in circles above, filling the air with eerie cries. The trees nearby howled as their branches danced to the wild and maddening wind.
I decided to go home.
Back in the city I sat on the corner when I saw a hawk eyeing a flock of pigeons. They were unaware of its interest. The attack, when it came, took them by surprise. The hawk, gliding on the air-currant, shifted its body and like a recoiled spring dive-bombed the pigeons. Scattering in panic they flew off in all directions, homing in on a dawdler, it was snatched. The hawk flew off to a tall building nearby with its catch.
One pigeon got hit by a bus and dropped dead by the side of the road. A male pigeon spend many moments "romancing" it. Passers-bys were shooing the male away. A teenage boy said: "she’s dead, you fool, shoo, go away you silly thing."
"Necrophilia" someone said, "he can keep that up for hours, shoo you stupid bird."
Top Hat threw a fiver at my feet.
"Take a bath, you smell."
The tobacconist thought so too, he forgot to take the money for the fags. Outside my bag had been stolen. On the way home I saw an old lady dragging it to her cardboard box home.
I wondered if she was related to the queen.
"On the fiddle, the lot of them!", said a down-and-out.
Ignoring this outburst the man continued from an unsteady podium : " My dear friends, what is freedom...?"
I walked on. His words on freedom and friendship following me. In the underground I opened my newspaper:
"Man's hand bitten-off trying to rescue kitten from dog's mouth."
"The free press refuses to give in to government censorship. We are independent."
"The old lady found dead under her cardboard box home was indeed related to the queen, a collection to bury her has started."
A man sitting directly across from me wearing a top hat stood up, offering his seat to a pregnant woman wearing a niqab.
The greaser with less breeding, wearing black winkle-pickers, got there first to the annoyance of Top Hat.
The girl sitting on the seat next to him smiled, she was holding a smelly baby. "They fart a lot at this age", she said. The greaser hastily retreated.
An East European got on at the next stop, a large piano accordion strapped to his back.
"I trust you have no intention of playing that thing in here", Top Hat said.
Either he didn't speak English or he had a problem with authority figures, for after an amazing feat of gymnastics, he removed the black and white toothed monster and serenaded us with false notes and false hopes.
After taking up a collection he was none too impressed with our generosity and cursed us in a foreign language.
There was a bad smell in the underground, but when the overweight long-haired boy reeking of something one would shake from one's shoe got on, it took a turn for the worse.
The girl with the farting baby offered him her seat holding her nose. She got off at the next stop.
The rays of the platform's plastic neon lights laced the doors of the underground when a tall girl stepped in. Her honey-blond hair bouncing with each step, she had a golden-brown tan, that highlighted her blue almond-shaped eyes. The breeze from the doorway was playing with her light flowing dress that showed off her long slender legs on red high-heels.
The bespectacled middle aged man with a ruddy complexion sitting next to me was doing his utmost to peek under her dress.
I got out at the next stop and looked at the huge metropolis and decided to take a sabbatical. I would leave the city in search of freedom and friendship.
Having put my affairs in order, I stepped on board a train to the middle of nowhere.
On the swaying train, I made my way along the corridor, enjoying the roar and motion, I hummed to the rhythm of its great iron wheels.
Going into the first carriage that had a vacant seat, I threw my rucksack on the overhead rack.
The train chugged along through the unspoilt wilderness. Isolated houses and farms dotted the landscape.
I saw the sun appear above the mountains. The rays shining down on the green hills, lighting up the dark and mystic forest streams.
I looked at a scenery that had changed little over the years. After winding its way through the hillside and passing through several tunnels, the train finally arrived in the middle of nowhere. It was late afternoon.
For eight days and nights I searched for freedom and friendship, but it eluded me. The road to freedom was a long and hard road that I dare-not stray from, lest I be pursued or mauled by farmer's dogs.
"Trespassers will be prosecuted."
"Beware dangerous bull."
"Enter at your own peril."
At the top of a hill I unpacked my binoculars. Looking out to sea I watched a tall ship cross on the horizon.
Sunbathers and sun-cream lovers changing into their swimsuits, running to the sea, a wave crashing over them as they dived into the water, splashing each-other playfully.
I found myself standing alone listening to the whispers that came over the ocean, the mountain stream poured into the sea in a splendid waterfall.
Suddenly the weather changed, a cold wind swirled around me . The gulls flew in circles above, filling the air with eerie cries. The trees nearby howled as their branches danced to the wild and maddening wind.
I decided to go home.
Back in the city I sat on the corner when I saw a hawk eyeing a flock of pigeons. They were unaware of its interest. The attack, when it came, took them by surprise. The hawk, gliding on the air-currant, shifted its body and like a recoiled spring dive-bombed the pigeons. Scattering in panic they flew off in all directions, homing in on a dawdler, it was snatched. The hawk flew off to a tall building nearby with its catch.
One pigeon got hit by a bus and dropped dead by the side of the road. A male pigeon spend many moments "romancing" it. Passers-bys were shooing the male away. A teenage boy said: "she’s dead, you fool, shoo, go away you silly thing."
"Necrophilia" someone said, "he can keep that up for hours, shoo you stupid bird."
Top Hat threw a fiver at my feet.
"Take a bath, you smell."
The tobacconist thought so too, he forgot to take the money for the fags. Outside my bag had been stolen. On the way home I saw an old lady dragging it to her cardboard box home.
I wondered if she was related to the queen.