Date: 2026-03-23, Monday, 02:02 PM
Tags: writing
It’s a lazy day, a very lazy, sunny day. The atmosphere wants the people to just sleep and be cozy. It’s warm, just a bit up to being irritably hot, but not quite.
The bazaar is slow, shopkeepers are in their shop fanning their face with their hands. One of the shopkeepers has fallen completely asleep. Another is barely keeping up with his wife on the phone.
We see two customers get into a jewelry shop. The big one is a Aunty and the younger, her 25 year old daughter. They’re trying to bargain with the shopkeeper but they feel so bored that even they don’t try to bargain for more. They know that the shopkeeper would just give them the necklace for free if they just asked for it, but they don’t have the energy to do even that. You know, they just want to yawn yawn sleep on their bed. It was a bad decision to go out today.
We hear someone talking. Are they talking on the radio? TV, perhaps? Or maybe it’s just someone talking to another person. But the voice is just one way, no one’s replying her, or holding up a two way conversation. Unlike others, the voice seems to be a bit enthusiastic, calm. The voice makes you feel cool, you know temperature wise.
Let’s see what’s up with the voice.
That house, the one with blueish color, that has white outlines on some places. Maybe that is it. Let’s go there. Oh my god, the cat just slept on whatever position he was eating. Is he (she) dead? “Yo…”. meeeeeaaaaaw. What kinda meow is that. He’s not dead. Even if he was, I was in no mood for disposing it anywhere.
Oh yeah, the voice, it’s still there. I’m kinda growing fond of (or maybe getting used to) the voice now. But I can’t fully comprehend what it’s saying; what she’s saying. I want to meet her, but what do I even say to her?
Let me go past the gate… wait the sound stopped. I’ll just wait for a whil… Ah! there it is. But it’s not from this house. It’s coming from that house behind which is right behind this house; it’s colored entirely in white (maybe eggshell white). Seems like a small palace.
I shall go there.
I’m just gonna float my way to there. It looks like when camera with extreme stabilization takes video of POV of a cyclist. But wait, I’m losing my interest in that voice. Still, let’s check it out just for the hell of it.
It’s a beautiful home. There’s only one floor, but it seems enough. Now I can hear her “feel your legs, feel your hands…” Ummhmm. Let me just take a quick tour of the house. It seems like she’s a meditation teacher. Maybe she’s having a session.
Good kitchen, ooooh apples, but nah. They could have gotten something electric rather than using an LPG gas. Mmm… the bedroom is good. What’s that written on the sheets, “I’m your slave and you’re my queen” haha.
Wait, why’d she stopped talking now. I’ll check her out.
I think her voice came from this room. The window is open, light breeze is in the air. It’s just enough to be warm and not irritably hot. I could just lie down in front of the door, to be honest.
Let me see. Straight ahead, half eaten pizza, on the right a huge TV. Moving ahead reveals the left section of the room slowly
A wooden chair, a man is on the ground. Tight fit jeans and a flannel shirt. The guy is literally sleeping on the floor. There’s no carpet on the floor, it’s a cold concrete floor. The guy’s butt is facing upwards. His face is on the floor, almost like he’s sleeping, like a baby. Must be nice. Wait, now…
“If you had your eyes closed, you can open them now, feel the awareness within you.”, said she.
Blood on the floor. Gun on the hand that’s under the guy’s belly. Irony? He can’t open his eyes now.
Resources
Sleeping like a baby:
Image Courtesy: Baby Yoga Healthy Care Vector Stock Vector (Royalty Free) 1645992637 | Shutterstock