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@strollingunderthestormclouds
I'm falling in love with solitude.
Stockholm syndrome.
Death and the Cat
Part #01
Hi! I'm Death. I assume you've already read the title. So, this story is about me.
Well, let's start...
Death and the Cat
My job is to reap souls and lead them to the afterlife. So, I'm the last person everybody is gonna see, literally (That kind of makes me a celebrity). I took this job very very long time ago. I was used to be a very depressed kid. Then again everybody was depressed back then. It was the middle ages. Depression was 'the thing' back then. After my death, I made a deal with my predecessor. Come to think of it, there wasn't much of a deal either. When I said him that I'd like give it shot, he quickly threw the cloak and the scythe towards me and ran away while yelling "I'm free! I'm free!!" and laughing hysterically. It was so unprofessional. Anyway, I put on the cloak and suddenly I was a pale rider himself.
Read the full story at,
https://www.wattpad.com/story/128909648-death-and-the-cat
Wish I could do more than wondering
about taste of that smidge of ice cream
on your lip.
You only see the rainbows,
not the rain cloud
I carry over my head.
My poems about you
were actually about me,
until even the poems about me
end up being about you.
Smell
She hadn't met her new neighbors yet. It seemed they mostly kept to themselves. Doors and windows were always shut. Only clues for their existence were the smoke coming from the chimineas and especially the intoxicating smell of cooking.
That small wasn't your average cooking smell. It was good, so good that kids from the neighborhood had started to hang around the house often to enjoy it as much as they can. Those new neighbors were the only topic among the gossip cycle of the housewives which she was a proud member of. Everyone wanted to know what they were cooking. But more than anyone else she wanted to know, all the juicy little secrets, kind of secrets which any housewive would guard with their own life. It was because before the invasion of new neighbors came she was the crowned queen of cooking in the neighborhood.
She was jealous, more than she admitted to herself. But more than jealous she was curious. She wanted to steal the secrets. What ingredient could possibly make it smell this good? So she devised a plane, a spy mission. She baked a cake with the best recipe she knew. She looked at the baked cake and for a moment she was proud. But suddenly the smell of neighbors cooking went through her nostrils uninvited and her pride crumbled into pieces and fall around her feet. She took the cake and went to the neighbors. She tapped on the door.
The plane was to give the cake as a housewarming gift and make a friendship. She tapped on the door and waited for a response. There was only silence. So she tapped again. This time a woman's voice came, "Door is open. Come on in. I'm in the back." She went inside. But she was little uneasy. A chill when through her spine. The neighbor invited her without even bothering to see who she was. Suddenly the door shut drowning house in darkness.
In that evening the kids outside the house were talking. "Oh! this sweet smell. what would I not give, for a bite from that sweet smelling Barbecue."
She doesn't set you on fire.
Instead, she makes you wanna lay your head
on her lap and sleep forever.
Dear imagination,
You're supposed to show my happy place,
not her happy place.
I was walking to work as usual when I heard that loud noise. It was a car horn mixed with a horrifying sound of a scream. I saw a blue car stopped at the zebra crossing and someone lying in front of it. After I recovered from the shock, I ran there to see who was hurt. I kneeled in front of the body to see if he was still alive. He was badly hurt. There was blood everywhere. But when I saw the face.... He had my face, exactly the same, as if we were twins. I was petrified with fear and confusion when I heard the second noise. I turn around. There was a car coming towards me, fast. I could only identify its colour. It was blue.
© tharindra galahena
One night I was walking home on an empty road and I met a girl. She asked me for the direction of a place near my home and I agreed to walk there with her. The street was lit by street lamps and when we walked under the first street lamp I saw her face change into a strange impression, as if something is wrong. I didn't think much about it. When we walked under the second lamp the same thing happened. When we walked under the third lamp, she suddenly turned around and ask me. "How come you're not making a shadow?"
You don't love me?
I can't accept that.
Even your own eyes don't accept that.
© tharindra galahena
Here I am
standing in rain
in the middle of the street
without an umbrella
typing a reply to you.
My mind whispers,
You're fucked.
Girl
She lifted her head up and looked at me, only for a moment. She wasn't that pretty at first. Her beauty was the type that grows on you through time. Slowly it did and I couldn't help but look at her again even though she didn't show any interest in me what so ever.
She somehow seemed different. Her eyes looked as if they were stuck between sad and happy. They were calling me. And at the same time act like they don't care. Her hair was a combination of curly and straight. They weren't short and very long. She wore a black t-shirt and pants. Bright pink nail polish was on both her fingernails and toenails. That didn't go with her all-black goth look at all.
She looked at me again. Her lips started to move as if they were forming a smile. So I too smiled at her. But she didn't smile. I felt like an idiot. Well played, I said to myself. She looked down again. She eyes ran quickly on the pages she was reading. For a moment I felt like she was resisting the urge to look up, but in the next moment, she wasn't.
I turned around and started walking away. Then suddenly without much thought, I looked back. I clearly saw her staring at me. This time her lips were smiling for real. But she quickly looked down. I waited for a moment and made an 'I got you' kind of a smile. Then continue to walk away.
© tharindra galahena
Rain
He took off his jacket
and put it over her head.
She remembered her dad.
© tharindra galahena
Out of nowhere appeared the woman in red and all male eyes started orbiting around her as if she bended the space-time with her curves. Her red lips reflected the light with a reddish glow. The street lamps coloured half of her face like the crescent moon. She changed the radio static moment into jazz.
She came to me and said 'Hello Stranger'. Suddenly I was wearing a three-piece suit, trench coat and a fedora. I had a revolver hanging secretly on my belt like a detective in an old black and white noir movie, only the world wasn't in black and white. Painting her without colour would be a crime against nature. The game was on. She seduced and seduced by me in a cat and mouse game where we both were cat and mouse simultaneously until we were dancing in each other's arms.
Moon appeared large and bright on the deep blue sky with stars made of glass. Crowded Streets slowly became empty. We danced to the Nat King Cole song Unforgettable coming from nowhere. She lay her head on my chest and her worm love penetrated through my clothes my flesh and sunk into my bones. She raised her head and look at me and her red lips begged for a kiss. How could I refuse? Moon blushed and hid behind a cloud. I wished for the sun to never rise.
© tharindra galahena