Life Is Not Worth Living It
By windrose
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That was the old place we lived, I remember. I cannot say exactly which corridor they were standing. A couple of girls were talking to my brother trying to solve some important matter. I guessed it would be about employment. In that case I couldn’t help either of them but I still resiliently hold in view that those two girls were more friends with me. One of the girls lodged at a place I lodged. The other girl worked at a place I worked. All of them are going through their daily life, perhaps. I waited under the next porch, wearing a smile, hoping the girls would notice me.
I remembered the other day I purchased a computer. My friend and I had to revisit the shop a couple of times, first to upgrade a graphic card, next it was a driver that failed to read. At that point we spent some hours at the shop and my friend called a CEO just to say how bad the service is. The CEO wanted to settle this matter with my friend and offered a treat at the café in front. My friend asked me to follow and the CEO gestured to me as well, in spoken words, “This chap too, come with us.”
I followed like an unimportant person without an argument and it wasn’t the first time that happened. I have known all my life. I had almost forgotten the little crowd I was gazing at. They were gone already from my sight. Someone else in my presence disturbed my thoughts. At that moment, the girl who worked with me stepped in and my smile broadened. She was rather tall and robust than I used to remember. Instinctively, my shoulders came up and I waved a ‘hi five’ to touch palms but she said flatteringly, “That’s not the way I use to shake hands.” She always smiled.
Though in expression I managed not to turn down mine a bit, I opened my palm to shake hands with her conventionally. And still in my importance I uttered, “Rux, now you’ve grown shrewd.” And added these words, “But don’t ever think I care,” heard by the other girl who stayed at the lodge. Fia stepped under the perch, I don’t know why but perhaps she wanted my attention. I can certainly say her eyes were not focused on me. In fact she was standing sideways. All I noticed of hers were a tit, a parrot green shirt and a dark shaded eyebrow.
Rux stepped away before I could return to her. She cut front of Fia who also turned away after hearing what I said. Fia wore an expressionless face and cautiously kept her eyes away from mine anytime we come to meet. I knew she heard those words she never heard from me before.
It did disappoint me because it was actually the girl I had an interest though she is married now. She knew many things about me.
Someone appeared with a couple of plastic bags full of contents. I grinned at him thinking he was looking for me. He put the bags in front of me and said, “Eshu gave them for you to keep.”
“Eshu!” I said, “Sure I know her.” Maybe, I knew many girls called Eshu. I glanced at the contents which were just torn underclothes and rags. “But what are these? What am I supposed to do?” I was interrupted to see a girl coming up towards me. So that was an Eshu I befriended on the internet. She was twice younger than me.
I asked, “Eshu, what’s going on?”
“I need money,” she said.
I noticed her eyes were tired. I knew her face only from a social network site. Taking advantage of the moment, I took her further to the patio. I put a hand on her back and rubbing vigorously. “I thought you were working somewhere.”
“No, I’m out of job.”
“I’m shocked to hear that. How did you get into this?”
“I can’t say. I never asked you before.”
I continued to rub her back. “Money is not the problem.” Actually I was low down and not carrying a buck in my wallet. “Here’s the thing. If I give you money now and you wash them in a second on bad habits, how will you get it next time?”
“I won’t be asking you anyway.”
“I want to help you. Take my advice, you must stop this habit.” Frankly I spoke with some experience.
She said, “I can’t.”
I knew that was the answer so I kept nodding and rubbing comprehensively but deep in my heart I believe she could stop. “Have you tried?”
“I can’t because of my boyfriends who are calling me. They are addicts and I can’t stop them from coming to my place.”
Honestly I don’t want to stop anyone from doing anything. When she mentioned those boys I knew she won’t be able to stop. If I insisted I could be restricting her freedom and a chance of seeing her again.
I was about to enjoy it; an unimportant man unceasingly holding from bringing out the wallet to make his case. “What about your dad? Doesn’t he say something?”
She turned in a yank of sentiment, an irresistible note in her voice when she spoke and put it briefly, “You’re talking about my parents. They are the most wayward people…”
I didn’t know what to say. I actually don’t know her parents. I gave her some help there. All I could say is she was genuinely hurt. I felt regrettably.
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