24.9.08

G

About to leave for the city, I pass by the dreaded place one last time. I can hear a cricket & the laughter of children playing at the field. Is it all in my head? Is it actually happening? The sky is clear & lots of sunlight falls upon the piece of land which used to be swarmed with grass. The Tarmac looks shiny & alive. I ask myself if such perception is a twisted vision created by my obtuse longing. I consider picking up turf to use as carpeting in my brand new apartment. My grandma is gone, the crickets silent, the grasshoppers still & my dreams lacking green. It will not be easy to move on. Silence. Grey piece of Tarmac. I can only close my eyes. Grey Tarmac. Grey piece of matter being tore by germs of grass. Grey bits of tar macadam going through the sky. Insects popping. Music in my head. The sight of clouds when lying on the ground looking upwards. I smile with a twitch. The grass field lives in my head...

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