A little feather and me

Sitting in a trishaw. Going home in the evening  from work. Musing the evening light , lack of traffic, jealousy, carelessness, mortality. And how depressing it all really is , if  you let it get to you.

Suddenly, a flutter. Of something. I see it from the corner of my right eye. My thought process is disrupted and I feel a spark of annoyance. I don’t like my thoughts disrupted.

A feather. A white little feather. Suspended in mid air inside the moving trishaw. Passing me, pausing in front of my eyes , a little flutter again. What , is it trying to say ? I try not to feel too happy about it’s sudden presence.

I feel a little ashamed. My thoughts , which were disrupted half a second ago by this beautiful little thing, were buzzing around speedily in my head. All tangled up in one another, all confused and sad and who knows what else.

And this little feather, suspended in mid air in front of me, completely unbound by mortal thought. Oh how gloriously free !

A little flutter again and it plasters itself to the back of the trishaw driver’s pink t-shirt. I scowl, wanting to grab it in my fingers.

It flutters away again , this time out the trishaw, but back in front my eyes again. I reach out slightly with my fingers, but it slips away.

It suddenly lands on my nose, and I chuckle, the trishaw driver looks back at me, I try to touch the feather, but it does its little dance, drops to my knee and away it goes in the wind !

I settle back in the uncomfortable seat and let the traffic zoom me by.


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