Wednesday, September 24, 2008

stalked by death

Walking to work one Monday morning, I come across a small child struggling with a huge school bag. He is slowly making his way to the school that is across the street from our offices. Somehow, he looks unwell, but since I am almost late for work, I say nothing. He does not look at me. Later, it occurs to me that if I was almost late, he must have been very late since the school starts thirty minutes earlier than the time I have to be at work.

Someone from the office goes somewhere and when he returns, reports that a child has been run over in the street. I do not go to have a look like some of the other nosey people. I know that it is the boy that I saw that morning, struggling with an over sized school bag, stuffed with homework and the lunch his mother packed lovingly, all useless now. Do we all know the day that we will die?

I feel like a Gothic Victorian child. It feels as though death stalks me.

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An update on my last blog: Someone at work must have read it, because I have been getting compliments left and right, even for designs that I know are butt ugly. I would say that people from a certain religious background are simply unable to be sincere, but I know one or two of them that have the ability. Maybe I am just too paranoid.

Written by I
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