Drip, Drop

April 26, 2011
I could see the steam rushing out of my filet mignon, like people from a burning building. The juice is dripping over the edges, like paint trickling down the walls of a freshly painted room. Everyone turns to see who ordered the delicious steak. Before putting the first piece into my mouth, I draw it close to my nose. It smells like heaven. Finally, as I bring it to my mouth, I taste something that I’ve never tasted before. The flavor fills my mouth. Suddenly, I get splashed by something. I look up and see the waiter apologizing as an empty glass of water falls to the ground.
My heart stops as I hear footsteps walking into my room. I have been waiting for this the whole day. A woman’s voice greets me, but I cannot see her face. I feel hot rocks laid on my back. She stops and returns with oil on her hands and begins massaging my tired back. I jump as I feel cold drops hitting my back. The drops become warm as the woman rubs her hands on my back.
I’m at a pool club with some friends. The pool is as big as the gymnasium at the YMCA. There is one slide that curves and a diving board. One friend splashes into the pool through the slide. Another friend jumps off the diving board. My other friend jumps in normally. Her splash hits me right in the face.
Suddenly, I awake to wetness hitting me. It was only the rain, as usual. I look up through tired eyes and see that I’m laying on the street, my home. This time there is no steak, no spa, and no pool. Instead, I am hungry, I am cold, I am alone, and my back is killing me from sleeping on my usual park bench in Central Park. I ask a woman if she knows the time. She tells me it’s 11:11. Upset, I thank her and quickly cover my tired and hungry eyes with my hands to make a life changing wish.

Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

Site Feedback