Tuesday, November 4, 2008
the mystery of the golden man.
As he took another drag of his unfiltered cigarette, his mind wandered back to the past. He always knew where he wanted to go even back then. Where he ended up surprised him. Nobody would ever describe his disposition of ever being impulsive except maybe the one or two who were closest to him. Impulse was exactly what brought him to where he stood right now, left foot leaning on the wall, right foot firmly planted on the ground as he took another long, rough drag on his cigarette all the while staring fiercely at nothing in particular.
"If only..." that voice echoed time and time again. He had stopped dismissing it altogether. At least now he only ever indulges it during these times. He actually enjoyed the self-pity that he felt. It was a change from the ruthlessness he had to adopt at work. In a way it reminded him of how naive and full of hope he used to be.
The optimist, that small part of him that refused to grow up, occasionally took over his being. It told him that the ride's not over yet. This wasn't his stop. "Take in the sights and relax a little before you get there," it kept saying again and again seeming a little too eager, almost desperate for him to believe it.
He chuckled. "Are we there yet? Are we ever getting there?" he wanted to ask. It was a hopeless query to an inevitable answer.
He flicked his cigarette on the floor. He sighed and lowered his head, a routine that came to signal the end of his moment of reflection. It was time to get back to work. He put on his coat and straightened his Raffaello tie, took a last longing look at nothing in particular and headed back towards his office. The brief respite from the world of mergers and acquisitions now officially over.
The journey to his
el dorado continues, one smoke break at a time.
-dib- at 3:42 AM