Vignette Series Part Seven
What if those walls were orange and there were substandard series lights spelled “hellow” strewn across the North wall. Then what if there was a mirror beside the door. What if, instead of having a closet, you have a bed with hidden drawers and in the place of the bookshelves clamped to the wall, you actually have a floor-to-ceiling book stall? What if you liked books instead of games? What if you talked about philosophy instead of cocaine? What if you weren’t married and we could have been? What if, instead of a job at the contact centers, you were programming? What if I was obsessed with pot but you love me anyway and every Tuesday, we take our silliness to the club where there are girls stripping at every corner and every one of them wants to get hold of your cock? What if, one morning, we decide to split our funds and rent a van and just drive all morning until the sun rises and we stop at the corner of the road to watch the cloud-burning sun?
What if I decide to stay and we kept on living, peeling potatoes and shells off their eggs and watching terrible horror flicks?
What if, by some terrific twist of fate, you decide to come back to the ones you’ve parted ways with and you make twin-matching, face-twitching pairs of kids? But what if, time decided to return and you are back at this moment, deciding: has this all been a joke? And all that’s done would disintegrate and we are left to make a choice?