Friday, 27 October 2006

Turncoat

The night is pitch black, the moon's in hiding, a couple of spotlight beams trying to find their targets like two roving fingers. Suddenly the light seems to spread out beyond those fingers. Only half the world is black now, till the horizon. Above, there are faint tinges of colour.

Look to the east. That's the way the ship's heading and I'm peeping out from a large 'window' in the side, right at the stern. The waves buffet the bow every now and then and in between I can see the bit of sky I know will reveal the sun. The clouds are in attendance in just the right numbers: not too many, not too few. Looks like it'll be the usual glorious sunrise, all bright and golden.

Something in the water catches my eye. Only, it's not quite in the water. The star makes a premature entrance and ruins everything. Now all the clouds are a dull grey and there's only a little cracked, drunken-eye-red disc, almost drowning in the broken slate seas. Looks more like the mother of all hangovers than a sunrise. I turn my back to it in disgust. Seems like this end of the sky's putting up a better show anyway, I see a brightly coloured crown on that nimbus.

Hold on! That didn't add up... I rush back to my vantage point! :D. The gold and the cotton candy pink, the bright cloud with the brighter edge, the infinite lances streaking out, firing up one bit of the sky after another till it's all up in flames! There you go then, that's another good morning, winks the setting moon.

Currently: tallying the day's damages
Listening to: Moby - Sunday (the day before my birthday)