Orange and Black


His words reminded me of that time.

I was young, and you were a vision, clad in orange and black. I swear, those clothes were harvested from the dreams of wistful angels, and they were a mere highlight to your radiance. I called out to you that day, and you turned, and the light of the sun became secondary.

Well, you couldn’t really blame me, I had to stare, and in worship, take in every scorching detail. Time passed…

And still I stared, brain reduced to mayonnaise by the glare, all those fine cells containing the reason I called you, how not to be a statue, how to freaking blink. Eventually, some part of me tried to sift through the mush, the concept was to produce sounds that would pass for language.

The results were truly horrible, a slobbering barbarian would regard me with total disgust, Neanderthals would look askance and call me an animal, hell, even farmyard denizens would take contemptuous offence.

You did none of that though, you smiled…

That was it, my organs handed in their resignation letters. Mayonnaise dripped from my all the openings in my head, my tongue started a series of advanced yoga, the stomach advanced troops on pancreas, pancreas affected aloofness and tried to fit down intestines, knees went into recession and lost all stability, while my legs tried out their best house of cards impression.

It was a mess, and you just floated there, smiling. You knew, and I could do nothing…

I’m glad I don’t go to school with you anymore.

Pic credit: Mercury transit, NASA

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