04.07
It was about 15 past 8. On the way back to Cyber from Pudu, I was standing in the LRT, my right hand holding the pole in the center and my left hand holding my bag. My eyes were wondering around, observing people, my reflection on the glass panel. Sitting in the bus for almost three hours tires me.
Then came a girl. Clad in tight yellow baby-tee, about my shoulder high, entered the same train, holding on to the same pole. Handbag on her right shoulder. Pretty I might say.
The gibberish uttered by the crowd is music to my ears. Suddenly the train took quite a sharp ‘turn’, everyone holding fast on whatever they could get. And the girl, yes the clad-in-tight-yellow-baby-tee girl, was shocked by the sudden move and slipped her hand from the pole. Her other hand quickly tried to search for something to hold on to, and scratched my hand at the process.
“Sorry.”
“Nevermind.”
Her face was reddish in color, in embarrassment, and proceeded to stand at the door instead. Inside my head, there was another me. The tinier, invisible, magical version of me with two horns and a tail, laughing his ass off. I couldn’t help but re-imagining the facial expression of the girl during her attempt to save herself from falling. In which she succeed, gracefully.
Damn you, evil being.
“Stesen Bandar Tasik Selatan”
I picked up my bag, wore it on my left shoulder. I stood at the door facing down, my leg slightly opened; waiting for the door to open with a hero-emerging-from-clouds-of-smoke stance. And the train stopped.
I heard the sound of the door opening, but I didn’t see it open.
…
It did. At my back. The right door is on the other side, moron. And the crowd rushed out.
I turned back, alighted from the train, and I saw a few faces in the middle – looking at me. And I know, inside their heads, are the tinier, invisible, magical version of themselves with two horns and a tail, laughing their ass off.
Good luck, strangers.
ps: “Itulah Pak Mail jangan ketawakan orang. Ini bukan huruf M, ini huruf ‘ha’.“ – Cikgu Ros
funnyyyyyyy!
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