There's a breeze today.
The sun sleeps behind a cloud.
People love it. So do the pigeons and squirrels nibbling outside my window at the grains I scattered for their breakfast.
I'm alone in the big room. No one's here yet. Soon it'll be bustling. Phone calls, phone ring, meetings, discussions, informal chatter, the smell of tea and sandwiches.
I'm distracted by the squirrel who eats the most. It can gobble at an incredible rate for more than thirty minutes. I'm sure there's nothing called 'indigestion' in its world.
Papaya and cherries. I'll eat them when I feel like.
Right now, I'm too full of nothing.
It's flowing out of my ears and glistening in my eyes.
The forced upward curve of my lips gives it away.
Nothing occupies my mind and accompanies me everywhere.
I feel it growing inside.
Ah! Two Red-vented Bulbuls and nothing dissipated for a second. Just a second.
Nothing sticks to my skin and the insides of my head.
But wait. Nothing seems familiar. I know nothing. I'm sure we've met before.
But of course! We've met twice. The first time, in October 2005. An unplanned meeting. You sat around for quite a long time, refusing to leave. I'd to finally shrug you off and escape.
The second in March 2007. You made me sick. Sticking close to me till I had to run into the crowd to lose you. And lose me.
Now here we meet again. What do I do this time? We just met, you're not going to let me get away this time, are you? Giggle
You've studied me to learn my weaknesses, to find crevices where you could sneak in. And you're in. And multiplying. And laughing at your success.
I sit very still.
Nothing moves me.