Hazy Daisies

As with every weekend and the nights of it, this story doesnt deviate from the any normal circumstances to call it extraordinary.

But as always, theres a heroine in tonights play and she was wearing a white tee. For the lowers, on the record, i dint notice what particularity she was displaying. Her eyebrows were fresh from threading, i can say , as i had noticed , when the room got injected with extra extra photons with her smile , which she was very generous with as against the small sips of beer that entered her system there.

Beauty, i always notice much and rarely miss, i could see she was rare and except one exception that might be , her nose, which the dim lighting made me notice not.

The blaring music thumping on every membrane in the body, as it wasnt exclusive to the ones responsible for hearing sense. Nevertheless it only embodied the the thumping beat amplified and exemplified.

Enough said about the one here but none could have been radiant enough.

I look at her, exchanging glances, that might be due the beer that i was pouring in, my system gone all Hazy Daisies:)

I wished for one thing tonight , an exception though to the wishes i made every other similar nights. I wished she could honour my lunch table tomorrow with endless tales of her story so far, i wished no more, no contact numbers, no names, for i loved listening to stories, and hers would have been special if i had learnt any more , all about her.

The ordinary evening held its head high as i never made any advances towards the proposition i had.

An experience it will remain, as have others taken their due place. I return to my table thinking about destiny and the destined, i wish that god was unfair only a little more, for depts seem to bear no meaning of hollowness in contexts that i ve been tormented every other weekend night.

Anger, i dont feel as i know well this is wat i am and that this is all i can do. But i do wonder what might be the limit of such opportunities knocking my door.

With drags og cigarette, kings 1.1,1.2 and 1.3 , a pause, and with watchful eyes on the door which might open to not my surprise, but surprisings produce her walking out in her full height and outside the moor.

Alas! This never happened.

A few sentences ran my mind at that very moment but weakly recollected in here, moments later, my memory weak n strong never makes me lament and tonight is no different testament.

I see a bright side and thats the last i see because it lasts only minutes thats seems so small in this infinite universe and momentary immortality.

I will search her in the many face that will bombard me the morrow after morrow till her memory fades in the brilliance of another star of the weekend nights to follow.

Writing all this gave me a peace in time lost in oblivion. Alas. no more. Its only Hazy Daisies that am following, conjuring to contain my sanity in sanctuary.