I'm slowly sipping my iced tea. I put down my glass and look around the dimly-lit restaurant and that's when I see him. His spiky hair, creased black shirt and denim jeans faded around the knees. He sits alone at a table for seven. He's attractive enough to have a lot of girls looking at him but apparently, he doesn't care. Either that or he's trying to attract even more attention with his odd behaviour. He pops a pill into his mouth and immediately clutches his head. His elbows give way and he puts his head on the table. "Boy, he sure is troubled", I think. "Could that..No...Maybe..Not in a restaurant!" I debate with myself. I make an excuse to go wash my hands, leave the table and walk past him slowly, trying to look as subtle as I could, looking at the pills out of the corner of my eye, but it is far too dark to read the name.

I make a pretence of washing up and head back. His hands hold his head and he swings from side to side. He makes me sick with worry and I know not why.
I sit down and try to eat without paying him too much attention. He sits up, scarily sudden. He screws his eyes up until they're nearly non-existent.And then, breaking all laws of decorum at the dinner table, or in a public place for that matter, he lets out a massive burp, loud enough to shatter the windows and the crockery and repulsive enough to want to make me scream in disgust. But, unlike him, I have tact. I make a belching noise in response. And now, he is revolted. Revenge, mon ami, is indeed sweet.

Shine

I look out of the balcony and my gaze falls on the moon. It's enchanting, radiant, the kind of beauty that poets could wax eloquent about. There are faint traces of shimmery yellow all around it, lighting up the sky just a bit, for all those depressed lovers with broken hearts to be comforted. For all the little children dressed in rags, chasing make-shift toys to look up at and love. For me to sit in my balcony and ponder over it for hours together. For peace of mind, for serenity, for everything the rest of the world tries so hard to be, so hard to give, but fails miserably. For upliftement, to make me smile again. The world is a beautiful place. And there just might be a God.