Graeme stared pensively into the blackness beyond the back door. In the shadowy night, he fancied he could sense the presence of countless ghosts, thousands upon thousands of memories given form in the darkness. Each of them represented a moment in someone’s life, a decision made, a path chosen, a whole alternative life lost forever to the void of the unknown. He pictured seven billion people walking the paths of the world, constantly and unknowingly shedding these potentialities like spectral snake-skins.
‘What price the path unwalked?’ he whispered to himself. ‘What cost the life unlived?’
‘What are you mumbling about?’ said Sandra from the other side of the kitchen. ‘Have you not taken the bin out yet?’
Being as I am the epitome of critical literary analysis, the pinnacle of writerly judgement, it needs to be pointed out that the unexpected "Have you not taken the bins put yet?" deflates a perfectly poignant episode, one that is filled with hidden angst and a singular depth of emotive and intellectual pathos. I have yet to find a binman with these attributes.
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But I always contemplate these things when I take the bin out.
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http://nerd-like-me.blogspot.com/
ReplyDeleteactually this piece is very well written. It's melodramatic, understating tone reminds me of Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.
ReplyDeleteokay, I'll be honest, this sounds like a book I'm reading at the moment, and frankly, I love it!
ReplyDeletehahahaha thats funny as
ReplyDeletei do that sometimes lol
‘What price the path unwalked?’ he whispered to himself. ‘What cost the life unlived?’
ReplyDeleteThis made me laugh. :)
I've read actual books written like this. There was one published fanfic where the main character looks up at the Milky Way and starts rambling to his dog about how it's a milky response to his angsty thoughts or something like that.
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