The lone, weathered bag rides the carousel long after the cab pulls away from the darkened driveway of the last traveller's house.
Emptied of its transient rush, the hall reclaims its flickering, indifferent silence.
Resolutely, the bag circles in the harsh fluorescence that mocks its having been left behind.
As the rubber flaps loom ahead, it pauses. Hesitates, almost.
Silently, the bag slips through.
A heartbeat.
Another.
Three.
Four.
Breathe
The empty carousel soldiers on.
In this nexus between endings and beginnings, mere seconds can seem like an entire lifetime.
The bag re-emerges from the separated twin of the rubber-flapped opening in the wall. Bound by the curse of its solitary dance, the haunting transit replays.
Round after round, the contents of the bag gently rattles in perfect cadence as the same kink in the conveyor belt protests each pass.
Faded markings from stickers and tags scar its worn surface like ghosts from lifetimes past.
A lone, weathered bag. Pregnant with memories.
Not quite discarded
Left behind.
Waiting.
5 comments:
You know what, I REALLY thought this post was going to end in a terrorist explosion.
Alamek.. you make me feel sad about my old luggage bag...she is at home instead of being here with me in italy.. i got another one instead,...
Are you talking in a "parable"??
Anyway,, i have been eating gelati like anything.. almost everyday ONE! Yummmy
I like your blog leh.. can you tell?
jay - and let the bobbys track me down? not a chance. :)
ame - hey, stop coming here...get back to sightseeing!!! how much are the gelati ah? one euro? i just bought some euros yesterday...the clock is ticking.....
and yes, metaphors abound. i refuse to say baggage.
oops.
Very nice.
So the poetic wan...
I like "...like ghosts from lifetimes past."
Suddenly teringat Dicken's Christmas cerita about The Scrooge. With all the hantus.
jay - so did i... alas!
how i identified with this one...gosh! time to go see a therapist!
Post a Comment