Wednesday 13 November 2013

The importance of meaningless details!!!

He opened the door and walked in, to his shock the room was covered with yellow paint! Yellow the color he hated the most. He could'nt stand it, he almost had a phobia. He felt the blood pressure rise and then he heard a thud followed by excruciating pain in his knuckles. It took him a few seconds to realise that he had hurt himself when he punched the wall. Soon after that he could not feel his hand. He heard someone calling his name, it was his wife. He saw her coming through the corridor, a fragile, fair woman with a high pitched voice. She came running towards him and took his hand in her hand. He wanted to punch her, he was almost certain that this was her doing. She was the one who turned his apartment into this... this hell hole. He wanted her head on her platter. "What happened?" he asked trying very hard to keep his voice down but he clearly failed because the reponse he got was, "why are you shouting at me?" He could not bear the anger anymore he want to scream or pull out her hair or his own, he kept thinking how could she?? how could she do this when I specifically told her that I hated this colour? How could she not have used her brain? Then he repeated himself but in much louder voice that sounded almost like a scream, "what happened? Answer my question!!" On hearing this she threw the ointment that she had in her hand and ran towards her room with tears rolling down her cheeks. At this point he found himself alone in the living room, he felt the as if the yellow paint was haunting him, he kept looking for a distraction, something that would take his mind off this color then his eyes fell upon a cricket bat that was standing against the wall. He picked it up and he felt a whole new kind of energy running through his insides and with great speed he marched into thier room and after that he lost control of himself.
After about thirty minutes he woke up, his head was hurting, he looked around him every thing seemed red. He told himself that it was a bad dream and with great effort he stood up, it took him a couple of minutes to register what he saw. There she was, his wife in a pool of her own blood and suddenly like a flash of light everthing came back to him. He had killed her with his cricket bat. He had just murdered his wife. He fell like a pile of flesh and stared at her lifeless but terrified face not knowing what to do.
Then suddenly the phone rang, it got transffered to the answering machine. It was his mother, she said " Hi dear, I hope you liked he way I re-decorated your appartment. Yellow is the new blue. Anyway call me once you get this."

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