Wednesday, 17 June 2009

• Mango

  Last night.
  
  Half an hour until midnight. Thump. Thump. Thump. There is a pounding pressure in my head. It feels like it is about to crack into pieces. I occasionally grab hold of my stomach as I am walking home from the train station. I am coming in late because I spent the last handful of hours going out to Westie to take care of business. I have not had the chance to eat anything since almost twenty-four hours ago. It feels as if hunger has set in every part of my body except for my head. My head is filled with a different pain.
  
  My headache becomes insignificant as I call Polar Bear on my cell phone. I am talking for my safety. If something were to happen to me while walking through the 'hood at midnight, then at least someone would know.
  
  I am laughing during our conversation when I notice foot steps in the background. I see a shadow and it does not belong to me. He is awfully close. I am baffled for words but I manage to sputter out, "Mango" into the phone. He understood. It has been months, maybe even half a year, since we've created that term. I cannot believe that I even remembered it since it was originally meant for him. "How many mangos?" "Just one. Just keep talking to me, okay?" And he does.
  
  I came upon an intersection. I am crossing rather fast. When I peer behind me, I see that the Mango man is going into a different direction. Phew. Now I just have to keep on walking...
  

  • 1:30 PM
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