I was thirteen, but I looked more like fourteen, I had a bike and where ever I went, an artist would preceed and paint footsteps in my path, which I would purposely avoid, till one day I realised he had expected this all along, and so had been guiding my path afterall, and I became angry and made a telephone call to the police.
As I made the call, the artist sketched a queue of waiting furies. As I emerged, I became nothing more than boredom, and the full stop fell.
Alexandre Órion
2 comments:
I was thirteen, but I looked more like fourteen, I had a bike and where ever I went, an artist would preceed and paint footsteps in my path, which I would purposely avoid, till one day I realised he had expected this all along, and so had been guiding my path afterall, and I became angry and made a telephone call to the police.
As I made the call, the artist sketched a queue of waiting furies. As I emerged, I became nothing more than boredom, and the full stop fell.
You took the words right out of my mouth.
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