Friday, December 27, 2013

Man with a bandaged hand

The ravine oddly stood in front of the house. Seeping rain water had led to the growth of some kind of a mossy muck on its walls. The man with a bandaged hand was standing on the other end, a mere silhouette in my sight. Gingerly, I stepped down.

Halfway, I took a peek and saw him turning to my direction. I halted and started throwing mud into the bottom of the ravine. Crushing the brittle chunks and watching a red clayey layer forming over the reluctant green that seemed to have remained undisturbed for years.

The man with bandaged hands had started walking towards me. Definitely, the silhouette was closer than where it was when I looked last time. A mild panic was reluctantly setting in. I looked above, doubting whether I’d be able to make it.

Maybe reading my unrest, he spoke. His voice, devoid of any haste, got echoed within the mossy walls. “Wait” he said, “We need to talk”.

The panic was far beyond mild with the distance to climb looking inconceivably high up. The only hope I had was some kind of a déjà vu, in which I remembered making it to the top. Drawing some hope from it, I pelted along clambering awkwardly. The sound of his feet sloping across the slushy floor was nearing and the panic wave hit me with full force. Muscles felt like pieces of rubber and joints proceeded to a grinding halt like a rusted piece of machinery. Even the slightest movement demanded a great lot of effort.

The déjà vu had betrayed and I knew he was somewhere near. Terrified to look back, I took a peek at the shadows on the wall beside me and his was there with that bandaged hand stretched. I thought I saw a gun in it. I froze.

The voice spoke, "Why do you fear? I am you."


Another nightmare with an absurd ending.
Image courtesy: Motortion Films

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