Daydreams, part I

Written word

The other day, someone asked about daydreams. Little moments where your mind wanders off. This was my answer. A daydream I call ‘Heike

There’s hardly any sound. Only the light breeze of wind hitting the trees in the area. There must be a cricket a few yards to my right trying to attract his female companions. Other than that, silence around me. I can feel the concrete floor beneath me. Weird, people use concrete on roofs of houses. I can see the road in the distance through the periscope.

And I know who will be in this view in a few moments. She walks the same route every day. Every day at the same time, she is buying her lunch at the same coffee shop. Two pieces of cake and a large coffee. No sugar, I know that. It would spoil her otherwise carefully watched figure, she tells the barista who told me about her. As if sugar could harm her any more.

On her way down the road the first piece of cake disappears in her mouth. The second one will be gone even before she is back at her office space. She is talking during the walk. Either on her cell or to herself. Does she ever stop talking? Will the oceans ever be dry? In a few moments, it will not matter at all.

She is not the fastest living mammal on two legs. I can follow her steps through my periscope easily. She will not skip the road but use the pedestrian lights. Even those require some effort on her side, since the green light phase seems to be just a few seconds too short for her. Will the drivers in the first row in the road hope, she will not die of a stroke in the middle of the road? Are they laughing about her behind the wind shield? In a few moments, it will not matter at all.

I can see her now. As always, she is balancing her lunch carefully in one hand like an acrobat on stage while she has her phone pressed to her ear. She is grinning, while chewing while talking to another person. How is this possible? In a few moments, it will not matter at all.

“Son, you only pull the trigger between breaths” my dad always told me. An advice based on experience. A wonderful advice. I can feel the recoil pressing the shaft of the rifle into my shoulder. Someone with less determination would not be able to follow the bullet. Not my game. I want to see the effect.

Will she make a sound when it hits her? Will the person on the other end of the line notice what happened? Or will the last thing that goes through her mind be a bullet. Right now, it does not matter at all.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s