The big movement
The big movement
- Чуждоезиков фикшън
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Everyone is moving.
Everything is moving.
Not only on Earth but everywhere. The 14 000 types of ants on and under the ground never stop their quiet and unseen from hundreds of species dance of finding, collecting and carrying 10 times bigger than their own weight organisms, even though ants are million times smaller than us. When the big hot yellow-orange ball comes up to the horizon all different flowers turn their leaves in the same direction. Thinking much bigger, even the stars fall beautifully and fast, shining as silver tears on a child`s face in the darkness. But moving is pretty normal, no matter how. That’s what I am discovering fitting in one little square on Earth, a planet which by the way at the same time is being selfishly non-stop moving around itself.
And while everyone `s doing their own business that one small square that I was talking about is a little bit crowded steel bench with some tiny holes in it like dramatic effects that the mankind decided are important for the simple one meter metallic construction to have, which make my legs in this heat look like I got varicella. Staying dumb and lazier that ever on this thing, waiting my buss to come , I can`t find the courage to compare myself with the working ants or the quick stars so my mind is slowly going to the north and the polar bears which are now sleeping deeply as baby that was just fed. Suddenly the rectangular twice taller than me panel with the list of each buss that has a stop here, comes to life and that creepy recorded lady voice announce the minutes- only 23 left. Everyone is depressed, exhausted and with one and a half liters Garna Banya or Devin water bottles. The only exception is the old wizard looking lady with white long hair as an avalanche on her shoulders which ends where the big bloody red sea dress begins with these tiny little waves and how far you are looking at it the bigger the waves become. She has these terrifying long nails painted with bloody red too. They are longer and bigger than my own optimism with which I look at her trying to understand the touchscreen or just the technological evolution at all. After a couple of minutes I give up to watch her and focus on the bottle with already boiled from the sun water.
Water. That is all he can drink. This transparent liquid with no taste running down his channels or to say- the digestive system. Systems- each one of them for him is weak now except the artificial one which sometimes glitches too. At this chaos of pouring energy around him, he is laying down quietly in his hospital bed with no chance to move.
A bag wakes up me from my thoughts and this is not just a bag- it`s one of these polyethylene bags that I personally connect with heat. This one is an ugly blue and surprise! Inside of it there is another one. The fat, clumsy man in my right unwraps a burger that he`s been carrying and I guess- has bought couple of hours ago. His tiny little hands with short brown-red average pimples from mosquitos come closer to his very unattractive face already burnt. Disgusting. I want to get out of here. Far from all individuals standing in this routine of life we created when we started to think that we are bigger than everything else.
This man is likely to be like the one he was telling me about. The new guy in the room, which is stuffed with more than six beds no matter its capability to fit only 4. So this damn guy that came up from God knows which village it`s a real freaking boor who`s eating the most stinking fish you can ever catch in the world`s waters.
But that wasn`t even the worse. The worse was still coming…literally- my buss finally came. It was not one of the very old ones but it wasn’t last fashion. No air-conditioner I am trying to say. With a great amount of pain I find the last miserable strength left in my tiny skinny body and manage to get up from the bench in which my hips were sticked in like a glue to an antique paper. I see the despair in the driver`s eyes who has to be careful to not break the tiny shelves of the slugs traveling in his moving crib. The seat is on sun again and has these vamps creating that feeling that no one cares about it.
He has the same vamps and scares remained from the thought emergency operation on the whole stomach which took away some of his inner organs. No matter how time went out they are still there as he is been marked forever.
Moving along the seats the red-white wizard from my stop could not find a place to sit where she will feel comfortable with and starts to scream and abuse the people to stand up and give her their place like she is the queen of some sort of space stuffed with mental illnesses.
The main doctor came. She of course is wearing different overall than everyone else. Except the dark purple colour that makes you feel different emotions from enternal trust to this bothering like a bear is playing with a big sharp stick inside you. She got that voice like the evil character from a cartoon whose control is not anymore over the things and his plan of conquering is ruined.
The windows are opened. The wind that’s gets inside is hot and tension is getting to its highest point. I am useless. We are useless. But we are still walking and moving, flying and running. And in that moment my phone rings and I feel the waves of the spirits around me and all over the world. We become one main thing. Because we need one main thing. Like the ants need their 10 times bigger than them food. We need to keep changing.
The phone is still buzzing in my sweaty white hand with a ring with golden leaves on the smallest finger. Elegantly, now full with energy, I stand up and free my seat to the woman with the dress now looking stunning in it. Walk to the front of the buss, which slowly start to stop. The big doors open and I look at the driver. He is looking me. I am looking him. And for a moment I feel them. All of the feeling in this crib. And I get out. This is my stop. The display of my phone turns black. He is here.
We need to keep moving.