I walk out the brown wooden door. Then I walk out of the brown Iron Gate. I wish my next step out be a walk out of the circumference of the earth too. But that doesn’t happen. I end up in the bus stop. A quick glance at the carpets displayed through the window of the Interior Décor shop and then at the bikes right in front of it. There’s a guy sitting in one of them. He’s clad a in black jacket, black shades and most importantly looks very CLEAN. I don’t want to look at clean people when I am feeling very dirty myself, in need of a good scrub from head to toe. So, my head instantly turns in the opposite direction as if by reflex. My green t-shirt is discolored ( it was an absolute waste of money), my hair smells Johnson Baby’s Hair Oil and my hands are smeared with blue ink ( a blue Reynolds pen had to vomit it all in my hands).And that is how I look at work.
These Blessed Eyes of Mine