Bump. Bumpity bump. Bump.
Yes, I admit it. I took a prompt for today.
I was actually thinking about NaNo and somehow my brain was sidetracked by this new thing, dubbed “Random Word Generator”. I know, I know, normally, this is not something quite as earth-shattering, as say, fake butter that actually melts.
But seriously, I saw the title and clicked and wow, imagine my happy surprise when the page loads and in all its glory, is a nice big word, a lovely four-letter specimen of…Bump.
I thought about it and thought about it and couldn’t come up with something else to post. So here I am, posting about ‘bump’ because I’m too wired to think beyond it. I’m thinking instead of this little superhero, who could have a surfer hairdo and when he snaps his fingers, things bump. Whaddya think? ~_^
Don’t worry. I wouldn’t ask you to read or comment on something that random. It’s just one of those moments. Please do excuse me. I will find my brain–give me a moment–and put it back where it belongs, oh there it is!
Be right back.
Ah, I’m back. It’s all good now.
*flexing fingers, preparing to type*
If you would, but lend me a moment of patience, I will now present to you, in all its wondrous array, a short of 498 words :
Bump.
Softly.
I wasn’t thinking about it. I wasn’t thinking about it at all.
Rather, I didn’t want to.
Life was strange, then. There was very little I could understand. There was even less that I cared to understand. Life was monotonous.
And I liked it that way. I liked it quite a bit.
I don’t remember when it started. I almost wish I did, but then, maybe, it’s best this way. If I knew for sure, with absolute certainty, mayhap I wouldn’t be doing this. I wouldn’t have bothered at all.
It was a very quiet sort of thing, in the middle of nowhere and when I least expected it. I think it was by that new copier in that old, drab office space. It’s a cell, really.
Or a fairly decent reproduction of one.
Cold, dark and gray. White, empty and pristine. They mesh together to make the shadows that dance across the face of my soul.
They were the tapestry when I first felt it.
Bump.
A ripple in the ground, something to throw me off my feet. Something to make my smile waver, the perfect, polite grin that I wore day in and day out. It could have been anything. It might have been everything.
I dearly wished it was nothing.
But then I tried to take a step forward, having steadied myself with a hand on the new copy machine. At first, my feet wobbled.
The bump had shaken them considerably.
I tried to think logically, because I hadn’t heard any yells or screams. It was virtually impossible that I could be the only one to have experienced this sudden, strange earthquake.
It had to be an earthquake, yes?
Bump.
This time, it shook me to my knees.
In my new suit, on the thin, worthless carpet, I was on my knees for no other reason than something I couldn’t explain.
Softly, gently, something whispered to me.
I tried not to hear it.
Then I tried to listen again.
The holds faded away.
I rose to my feet and continued on.
Somehow I found my way home. Somehow I found myself standing in the living room, moving as if I were wading through water, captured in an otherworldly daze.
A strange, strange dream.
Then I felt it again, softer, kinder almost.
Bump.
Like a hand on my shoulder, guiding me forward and down.
Oh heart of little faith, why must you be so bold?
On my knees I am nothing. I am unworthy to ask the requests that I hoard within, selfish requests to improve my own mindless existence. So self-centered, so singled-minded.
Bump.
Quieter, more insistent, this time it shook my thoughts free of their human confines.
When the whisper in my ear came, I listened.
I closed my eyes and prayed.
Everything poured out.
Nothing else happened, that day.
But now I feel them, everywhere.
Bump, softly.
I wish I could say that I didn’t mind, but I am still human.
© Sara Harricharan
And that’s all folks. There you have it. Proof that my head is not always in another world. ^_^ Thanks for visiting and taking the time to read this far.
