Inside the blanket 3/4
Exhausted, is what goes across my mind. “You know, you can take a day off, now and then”, Christine speaks in an apprehensive tone, as if reading my thoughts. I try to give her the best reassuring smile I could muster, but being someone who has known me for the last decade or so, she isn’t fooled. However she drops the subject, sighing out with exasperation and goes to collect her clothes. My eyes hover over the clock, that’s hardly visible beneath the cobwebs. Quarter-past-three. I think I’ll get the last bus, which is a relief as I don’t have to wait for the manager to drop me.
The cold October wind pierces my body through the various holes in my coat, which are not usually visible to the naked eye, but fails to fool me as chills run up my spine. Thankfully, the wait is short-lived as the bus arrives. I climb into the almost desolated bus, except a homeless man sleeping on the backseat. I descend myself to one of the seats near the window, and close my eyes, trying to find solace from the cold metal, and make an attempt at emptying my mind. But before I could get consumed by sleep, my destination arrives.
I walk through the same lane, same neighbourhood, that I had walked for the last decade, ever since I came to the city. Did any good come out of that decision? I wonder. Yes, there is indeed something, I remember. A smile forms on my lips, this time a genuine one.