Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Jane

Foo...this was written a long time ago, 5/9/08. This is way different from my other posts. Hope you is liking it.

Her name was Jane.

She had the world on a string. A bounce in her step. Living everyday like it was her last.

But she feared the string might snap. She would bounce in front of a moving van (or anything that could seriously hurt her). And she lived everyday like it was her last.


She wakes up in the morning anxious and sweating.

"Is today my last?"

Going to the bathroom to freshen up was in itself an adventure worthy for Indiana Jones.

"Am I going to slip? The water is a little bit too hot isn't it? Will I go blind if Colgate gets into my eyes? The water in the bowl is a little too deep isn't it?"

How she managed to get to work was a mystery in itself. She used the subway. The Train of Death.

Jane always wondered why everybody always gave her that stare of theirs. She found it rude and insulting-- probably due to, she shot THEM weird anxious glances. She was afraid of getting groped, grabbed, thieved, robbed, raped, molested and worst- assassinated.

She tightly hugs her handbag close to her body (but not TOO tightly; she fears of preventing circulation to her organs). She wears a trench-coat, scarf in the fashion of a tudung, sunglasses, gloves and boots in the winter. She wears a trench-coat, scarf in the fashion of a tudung, sunglasses, gloves and boots in the summer.

At the office- she works on the ground floor and ONLY the ground floor. As a receptionist.

She picks up calls with a stammer and a stutter. She doesn't say hello until the other on the line says it first.

At the office she wears a trench-coat, scarf in the fashion of a tudung, sunglasses, gloves and boots.

For lunch she packs her own. She eats at the front desk. Fast and efficiently. But not too quickly now, she doesn't want to choke.

Her days are just full of quick bites and "H-h-h-h-ello"s

At 5 she leaves the office. Gets on the Train of Death. Arrives once again back to her apartment.


Her name was Jane.

She had omniphobia.


She lived longer than anyone else.

And died in a trench-coat, scarf in the fashion of a tudung, sunglasses, gloves and boots.

2 comments:

arobotnamedlisa said...

now THAT was very enjoyable. :D

Ming Yong said...

genius. poetic and symbolic. alot could be discussed from this.

im so happy you finally posted it ;)

hey, btw, i need my coat back. for some presentation. mebbe we could hang on friday and i could get it back then?

xx