Tuesday, September 6, 2011

He is one of us. Fiction.

His glow in the dark Timex showed 5 30 AM. "Too early for my eyes to
open and body to function", he thought as he tried to muster strength
to sit up. His mouth, dry, smelled like the the day before's dinner of
Paneer Tikka, his favourite, his head spun, due to the sudden change
in altitude, his vision distraught. He didn't recognise his arms, they
looked alien. His throat burned. Finally he stepped out of his trance
and held the handle of the near by sofa to help him stand. He managed
two shacky steps before stumbling down, leading to a deafening crash.
The hangover of the late night drinking hadn't passed. But he couldn't
give up. He needed to reach the refrigerator. He tried again... Like
an infant learning his first steps, he took support of the wall and
reached the fridge and opened it with a slight creak. The light
blinded him. He cursed under his breath. "Who the F**K thought of such
bright light?!". After his eyes had adjusted, he, still hoping that
his father doesn't wake up, thrust his arm, which still looked unusual
to him, into the fridge to get him his beloved orange juice, his
tonic. Its acridity and slight bitterness always helped him overcome
the hangover. He looked at himself in the mirror on the fridge door,
his eyes now adjusted to the dim light of the rising sun pouring in
from the kitchen window behind him, and thought himself to look cool.
The goatee suited the slightly tapering physique of his face. He
flexed his biceps to show his macho. Refreshed, he then placed the
orange juice back and stuttered towards his bed. He was almost there
when he noticed his dad behind him. F**k. Then he saw his dad , what he previously thought as impossible, open the fridge and fetch out the orange juice. He stood there stunned, feet rooted to the ground. Then his dad opened the bottle and gulped i
the juice down. "Woahh! Like father like son" He quickly scampered off to bed making a mental note to HighFive his dad.

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