Tuesday, November 29, 2011

A late night

Another late night. Alone again. It was a beautiful night, dark and peaceful. The silhouettes of the trees swayed gently behind the glowing orange streetlights. Leaves swirled in the air, following the rhythm of the air current. I turned the air-con down to 1 and pushed the blower away from me. It was getting chilly.

I was driving slowly, though the road was deserted. I was still faster than the campus speed limit of 40, but at this speed, I was sure the guards would not stop me. I looked at the newly completed Grand Hall as it passed on my left. It was a massive cylindrical building, more than five stories high. Painted white with green criss-cross bands all over it, it looked incomplete, a rushed work. It would be used for this year’s graduation ceremony which would be in October, just next month. I would love to attend, if I was given an invite.

I rounded the curve and came to a small roundabout , taking the three quarter exit which led to the boulevard leading in and out of the campus. I passed the guardhouse, waved politely at the guard. He grinned back at me and waved me past. I knew the guy, he was the friendly handsome guy. It was late, so he did not check the car boot. The guards only checked the car boots at about 5pm, the time just after office hours. I always wondered why. It made it so easy for me to steal some fancy lab machine, had I wanted to.

I stopped at the traffic lights and waited for my turn. When the light flicked green, I turned to the right and cruised down the deserted road, keeping a healthy 90-100. I glanced at the clock. It was already 1146pm. Not that late, but I was rather exhausted today. My energy level was down low, and even at 1, the chill of the air-con was giving me the creeps. I turned it off. I fingered the quick-control button on the steering wheel, sampling each radio station for a few seconds each. There was nothing good. I switched to CD. Amy Winehouse begun whining how I knew she was no good. Actually, I thought she was good. I loved her voice and unique style and the beats that accompanied her music though I only fully-appreciated her after her untimely passing. I drove on the right lane, the fast lane. Indeed I was the fastest car that night as I overtook a few slow drivers crawling on the left. They were playing it safe, driving slowly. Good thing they took the left, or they would have really annoyed me. I slowed down as I came to the first round about. Traffic was clear, so I did not stop. I entered the roundabout, took the first exit and continued cruising down the straight road.

Tears Dry on Their Own began to play and I thought of the wonderful video that came with my favourite song. Her pierced upper lip was so sexy, especially when it wasn’t studded, and her boobs were so big in that tiny dress she wore. I had once googled “did Amy Winehouse get a boob job”. Some website said she did. But I still don’t really know. Can’t really trust websites these days. But I think she did. You know celebrities these days. I came to the next roundabout and after that drove across the bridge. Even at this ungodly hour, there were people fishing. Most were men, dressed in simple clothes. They held on to their rods, their lines reaching many meters down the bridge into the water. Seemed like fun. They just parked their motorbikes on the shoulder of the road. I sometimes wished I could go fishing like them, but then, where would I park my car? And who would I go with? I continued on, came to the final roundabout which marked the entrance to the city-proper. Back to civilization. I took the first left exit and continued on my journey home.

The road was still rather deserted all the way back home. It took about 30 minutes all in all, from the moment my car left the carpark, till my car entered the driveway. Reaching home, I saw my mom was still awake, watching TV upstairs. I screamed out that I was home. Then I quickly gobbled up the rice and chicken curry she had left for me on the dining table. I went to the room, got changed. It was far too cold to bathe. I turned the air-con on to cool the room, then went upstairs and checked my downloads. Damn, only 800mb, so slow. I had left my computer on the whole day, and only about 800mb worth of downloads. I felt screwed somehow. I checked my facebook, scanned through the hundreds of new posts. About half an hour later, I came back down to sleep. I quickly brushed my teeth, turned off the air-con, turned on the fan, and snuggled into bed. I crept out of bed and shouted to my mom to wake me at 630 tomorrow. Then I set my own alarm-clock, can’t afford to be late, and snuggled back into bed.

The damn chicken woke me up at about 623 the next morning. Nothing like having three alarm clocks, one biological, two mechanical. Or is it the other way around, two biological and one mechanical? THE END.

-this is a work of FICTION.


Anonymous said...

Do you know how long since I last visited your blog? Too long. Terrific details. Refreshing read for me too. I haven't been writing in depth like yours in a while. By the way, I thought this particular post is heading for horror. :)

Me said...

Hey, I was going for horror or fantasy when i started writing this piece. It was supposed to start out as a normal everyday thing, and somehow something would happened this time. But it turned out that the story had a life of it's own and I got home without incident. (Or perhaps I was not creative enough..haha). Gotta sleep now. Tomorrow I've to wake at 6am....to...open..the...lab.