I am almost late. But the car seemed to move at a very slow pace. The passengers beside the driver looked exasperated. In front of me, a man in a dark suit kept on glancing at his Rolex watch. The little boy wore a silent frown as if trying to fathom the reason for such delay. The lady with the basket, full of fresh fruits, already "Tskd." then times. Much worse, I am beginning to feel frustrated ... so fed up.
Didn't the driver know that his passengers were trying to reach their destination on time, if not ahead of time? Didn't he know that they're already late? Didn't he know that they're so busy?
Then the car suddenly turned out of the way. The exasperation increased a little bit more. Somebody asked what's wrong? The driver didn't answer. He just kept on driving so damn slow ... so hatefully slow.
"Oh, God, what is he up to?" Didn't ke know the exact direction?", I asked silently. I am now ready to burst. I want to get out of the car and ride another ... but I noticed that I'm almost on my way ... I'm almost there. I know it would be foolish to let go. I've already spent hours pretending that everything's fine ... that I could still arrive on time ... with the same perspective and enthusiasm I have when I first glanced at the early morning sun.
Then a lady 'round the bend waved her hand. "Oh ow, another victim!", I mused.
Isn't this scene familiar? Of course it is!
It's like LIFE, isn't it?
(10.01.2003)
