Vignettes: Windows into our daily nightmares

She, a plump woman of forty four, had always dreamed of something big, something glorious. These days, the only thing “big” was the mass of her thighs. A sigh rattled through her lungs as she stubbed out the last of her cigarette. He had disappointed her.

Alone was a feeling he was used to. Watching the cars drive by from the roof of his flat, he gazed down at the city, so glittering and vast; and wondered what everyone else was doing.

Of course traffic was at a stand-still. Rubbing his eyes, he glanced into the rear-view mirror at the line of cars waiting behind him, hundreds of strangers isolated in their little boxes, impatient drones. For a moment, he felt compelled to put the car into park, step out, and walk away from it all. But where would he go?

Passing by a homeless man on the corner, she tried to avert her eyes, but was forced to look when she realized that the cardboard sign he held said simply, “I am alone.” Later that week, she adopted a sad-eyed dog from a shelter, which promptly destroyed her favorite pair of shoes.

Lying in the stranger’s arms she thought, “maybe this one could be it”, and sighed happily. Little did she know, he was silently searching for a reason to leave.

He had never really wanted to get married. He hadn’t asked for this. And now they wouldn’t even call him daddy.

“Will there be anything else?” she sighed into the microphone as she adjusted her paper hat. “Please drive through.”
He stood there, lanky and wavering like a reed in the wind as he watched her small form fade from sight, her perfume still lingering, a layer of sweetness shrouding his gloom. Breathing it in, he tried to comprehend how he had pushed her away.

The promotional videos were different. He had wanted to sky-dive out of planes and impress girls with his uniform. Blood on his hands, his lips trembled. This was the only job he couldn’t quit.

Reclining further, massaging his temples he said, “Take a genuinely happy person, and have them sit in a cold and barren room for an entire day-alone. They will emerge changed. Now have them imagine a lifetime of the same. That’s looking through my eyes.”