The free air outside the mundane window is blaring out its opus, exchanging chaotic rhythms of water and lightning. Inside this shop that is failing on its promise to keep on the quality of the common folk’s rice, I am stuck with the seven other enforcers who had enough free caffeine. I am so done playing with boredom. Or should I say apprehension? Maybe it is the rain that keeps those enforcers calm and their eyes busy.
For the seconds I turn to look at the dangling clock by the vacant counter, her eyes dart around me. The eighth one, boasting a different outlook. She is definitely not from the zone nor is she waiting for the downpour to turn into a deluge for one good purge. She sparkles. But too much. Too much to get all the attention. The time tells me that she is not so apparent for the day or even for the zone. No one is that sumptuous or sacred here. I silently weep for this drifter’s tomorrow.
Wait a second! Hello there. What is it? What are you doing? Oh, I get what you are doing. For all the things you are exposed out there, you think you can go ahead without me? You cannot do that here. The wheel, the fire, the mind, it is all different in here. Are you ready to follow my words? Just the words. For someone trying to stalk a stranger, you shall be an observer. And not asking as a request, but could you please not do that again?
I am now nervous to take it out. I want to. But I am not ready to weep for my tomorrow. I look around to check the fourteen eyes that are gazing the storm. The free coffee is not working on these bleary eyes around me. That is good. Nothing to worry. I slowly take it out of my bag. Slowly. Unlike they call it, it is not the type of weapon that spews out lead, but the type that—
There you go again! Well, why do you care if I even tell what it is all about? Your calculus of imagination of course triumphs far better than anyone has in here. Perhaps, you think it would even cross the extra dimensions that you ponder all your life upon. I am not going to show you what is so sophisticated about it. Or about the glittering menace sitting here. In fact, I am going to leap ahead. Who are you to stop me?
Am I being so rude? Oh, you are just being curious?
I know from the beginning that she will make it. I know better about myself. To avoid complications, I am now far enough. Far atop the adjacent hill, I finally see her through the scope. Is that a proud smirk on my face? I do love admiring myself. I look at the clock. Two seconds for the time and half a minute for my smile on the glass. Enough with that, I finally decide to admire her. With all the wool around her and the adorable ushanka flapping by her cheeks, she looks like a funny snow bear.
“You made it,” I speak into the mic.
She lights up and scans around. Precaution? Or just hoping to find me? Nothing in this world could read her mind, except those unique snow crystals that graze her forehead. Oh, those intricate flakes.
The magnification on this scope is astonishing.
“Where are you?” She replies, scanning around. She finds it hard to peer through the hazy sky. “Are you okay?” That is desperation.
Oh, please stop! You still think you can outrun me into my day? I can see through you unlike you. I see that rhythm of chaos in you. You want this to make sense, do you? So desperate yourself? You still want to roll the wheel in your own way, don’t you? Why do I have to give that to you? Is it because you think that people like me would have an interesting world just for you? No such gratification for you.
I shoot her.