Corrugations

A cold, bleak morning. A door opened. Neuvo sol. Eustache walked out leaving a trail of sleep behind him. Normandy! flowers. Bleaker. And a contemptuous voice says, “Life goes on”, another flower falls asleep imbibing the sweet sleep of Eustache, the ingratiatory welcome of Monsieur Kart(MKart).

“Long live,Caeser.” Poor Eustache, attained a higher level of awakening with this untimely road show of the dramatists as MKart vaporised into them. Realisation always comes late. Well, maybe it’s better to have a slower realization of things. That’s what Eustache always believed in and followed. He never cared to understand anything unless rudely smacked right in the face. Surely, It did dawn upon him now, in the form of an archway leading to a vestibule on the other side of the street which was strewn with yellow daffodils and blue daisies. Probably, some leftovers of devil’s work.

Arch did seem familiar. As he entered, he heard someone cackling against the slow drip-dripping. It seems to be a day of realizations. As realization buried him in it’s wings, his shook under it’s warmth and felt himself aged with no thoughts except the horror. Yes sir, this is the place where he worked. Where he did his rather rudimentary and incomprehensive job. You might guess this from Eustache’s description of the place as a dinghy, dark, asylum for localising highly mutinous kids,a palatial mansion! Talking about the kids, those morose, wily, blood-thirsty, inquisitive and above all stupid blighters who used their brains only in unsuccessful attempts to eradicate Eustache, thier tutor.

So much for the stupid detail of the stupid kids. “Clip, Clop, Clip, Clop, Clang”. Not only a day of realizations but a day of adrenaline too. Kids are devils, they have managed to set an armour on a horse after him. Well, what do you expect to do in such situation? Flee, he did, the athlete propelled by the adrenaline and a reason that he is trying to find a reason to live. Alleys passed, and it grew dark. Is it a solar eclipse? Well, I don’t expect to use my time up in examining whether it is or not. But, he is Eustache, the inquisitive teacher. Another realization, phew! A whole army against him. Seems that kids have reached a peak, coming in full force as the Dark Lord Sauron against the Eldar. Eustache drew himself up in the open space, just to feel more miserable about the vastness.

Exhaustion. Tired legs and body trying in vain to replenish the used up adrenaline.He stopped. The cackling, a hollow and sonorous one drew closer. He reached out his hand to finish it off for once. Cold, hard and stinging surface met his hand, a tumbler? The impetus to end turned into a corrugative bang on the head. All fell silent. He basked in jubiliation in the emptyness as it got filled with more and more familiar faces who came to inquire and congratulate him. The drawing room, another trap? The sinuous evil cackle closed upon him yet again …………

I hate the bloody alarm clock with snooze instead of shut-off switch.