Friday, February 18, 2011

Remote Control (A short story prose)

I watched a man
through a moth covered window screen
He was changing channels

What was he searching for?
Never stopping to see what the light had to offer
Just moving, drifting
without a destination

I wondered:
Is this how he lived his entire life?
Has he simply gone through the motions?
My presumption eluded to such

What a sad state of affairs, if it were true

His thumb was systematic

Has this man ever glanced at a violet
and walked by without embracing it's intoxicating aroma?
Did he ever gaze at the cosmos
without pondering how small and relatively insignificant he really is?

Distraction permeated the air
Thoughts of simple beings
Offspring, ex-spouses, lovers and bills

It's no wonder he was so guarded.

I felt as if I were
floating, nearly hovering over him
Screaming a whisper that said: "STAND UP AND EMBRACE MOBILITY!"
but in a completely different dimension that he didn't hear

Oddly enough we existed on the same plane
even though I felt the rift between us.
His body remained still, his thumb changed the channels
My brain cycled through various thoughts
We were almost in synchronization for a small time

Neither of us settled
Him, on a channel
Me, on a thought

Were we actually so different?

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