An Unexpected Delay

The delay of my train by five hours in midnight was unusual and it prompted me to find the station master to endlessly question him until he bled from his ears hearing my tirade, but nowhere was he in sight nor were any other passengers waiting to board the train to Sikhri with me, leaving me stranded in the biting cold of the night, and when sleep began to sway me unknowingly between different realms of consciousness, an unexpected gush of wind blew with a severe might good enough to roll the hut of the station like a dice, carrying paper sand toothbrush forks mice plastic along with it in its belly, and from it rose an apparition holding a tiny dressing table in his palms with pictures of me placed on it neatly, various frames taken during different phases of my ninety year existence, but curiously the reflection in the dressing mirror wasn't me with my wrinkles or beard but a much younger me, and crowded around me were everyone I'd known until that day, who were now fast receding into their respective distant pasts and unknown futures, their distorted images fading in a whirlpool of muddy mess, instilling in me an unknown fright and lessened being, forcefully awaking me into the real to find my long awaited train depart and fade in a distance, obliging another day's wait for me to reach godforsaken Sikhri.

Death To Wall 'E' !!!

After having cornered him in one end of the room, I knew this was going to be a make or break instance in my day as the probability of a repeat occurrence when my nemesis’ life could again be offered to me in a platter was dwindling, and this sharpened my wits, tapered my senses, rushed me to action, and as I slowly inched towards him with the lethal weapon in my hand, I could see his black body glisten in the morning sunlight in contrast to the off-white background of the wall he was positioned against, and while his eyes moved frantically in search of a gully to rush towards escape, I inched closer to him, and while he sharpened his shears to attack me with all his assembled might, I had moved even more closer to him, and in a quick-second hand movement that left him stunned silly, which was even faster than that of gun slinging cowboy of the Wild Wild West (no modesty intended), I sprayed ample dosage of the lethal poison on his compounded eyes that blinded him completely and made him fall from his grace to the ground in the most atrocious manner, made him spin like a spindle while his sticky angelic feathers still desperately tried to keep him afloat, and as I saw him grimace in pain on the ground I could barely hear him speak because his lungs had accumulated disgusting loads of sticky phlegm, a suffering he attributed to change of weather from summer to winter, while his final recitation was vaguely based on his realization of death having suddenly assumed distinct and perceptible features, which were surprisingly ludicrous as that of a sleep walking donkey bumping into a wall, and out of exhaustion I slouched to the ground beside him breathing heavily and witnessed the tortuous end of my tormentor of last night, that little harbinger of diseases, that miserable composer of odes of incomparable undecipherable melancholies, who had kept me awake all night with his annoying buzz with such ungratefulness in contrast to the kindness I had bestowed upon him the previous night when I had saved him while he was just a suffocated housefly swimming haphazardly in my hot dinner soup.

A Strange Undertaking

After negotiating a fixed price for the funeral rites, the undertaker headed to the funeral yard after placing the receiver back on the phone when the grandfather clock of the church tower announced it was ten ‘o clock in the morning, and right behind the tower was the funeral yard where a lady who happened to be the landlord of the departed had arrived in a solemn dress and a somber mood, singing sad hymns, which unintentionally made the blooming flowers in vicinity droop and vicious cactus plants to frown, in fond remembrance of her only tenant, whose missing corpse from the open casket placed neatly in the grave made the undertaker question the sad woman to its availability (position in co-ordinates, if possible), to which she answered, All in good time dear sir, before continuing to complete the hymn, the intense grief which aggravated each passing minute, making the crocodiles lying at the bottom of the lake cry inconsolably, and forcing the eagles in the neighboring Indus mountains to close their ears and protect their young ones by sitting on top of them, stabbing them fatally with their claws in the process unknowingly, and at the end of the hymn ensued a howl with swiftly increasing decibel intensity emanating from the air just above that of the undertaker, who still had his hands upon his ears like the eagles did, yet found the noise to be deafening like that of a fast approaching train, swore for the first time in his life, God damn it what is that infernal noise, to find a man arriving towards the bosomy earth from the top of the church tower, aligning himself with quick hand flaps to stay perfectly perpendicular to the brand new grave’s centre, remixing songs of failed love and unworthy life in between the howl, fell face down in the grave with a thud, urging the undertaker to confess, Corpse upside down in a grave is a bad sign miss, a sentiment she quickly rubbished as nonsense, wished long life and safe passage to the doors of the Lord for her ex-tenant and added she would join him very soon to declare her unrequited love for him, but little did she know that the day for it to happen was not far, as the annoyed crocodiles and eagles arrived on the scene and devoured her for her extempore delivery of grief and anguish to their hitherto happy families, forcing the undertaker to bury his first customer of the morning in the same casket as her tenant lover with her face up, free of charge.