The Mundane

While walking back to work from enjoying a flavorful lunch, as I weave through the shoppers on the avenue, I look up at the steeple of a quaint old church. The building itself looked frozen in time. Well kept, it seems as though it will last at least a hundred years more.

Behind the steeple was the clear blue sky. A beautiful contrast against the brick red of the temple. Behind me, the sun shone brightly, bathing the neighborhood in gold. Were it not for the cold of Winter, anyone looking at a photo of the scene would have thought it to be Spring. The wind shifts. With it the stench of dead fish abruptly slams into my lungs.

I’m drowning. Trying to gasp for air, but my face is buried in my aunt’s menstrual discharge. I’m on my knees, naked. My arms are held behind me as one of my cousins grabs me by the hair and pushes my face into her.

A rumbling truck beeps its horn, bringing me back to today. I had staggered left and almost walked into traffic. In the distance, a homeless old man has found a fillet-o-fish sandwich in the garbage. Another day he gets to eat.