Friday, April 08, 2005

Yellow Roses Part III

I peeked into the rear-view mirror and still indicating directions and not looking so happy now, my passenger had started looking vaguely familiar to me. What world was I in, so far, I thougth. He was looking a mite uncomfortable like something bad he had eaten earlier was just starting to react right now. I had slowed down the cab to a roll, hoping that wherever he wanted to get off was close by soon cause I was also getting uncomfortable. He looked like he was to do something that he did not want to do at all. He looked half crazed in fact. Well, this is not to be, I thought and asked him if he was going to be sick. Taking Fiona around in a car stinking of puke did not seem very interesting. I rolled to a halt and opened the back door. The guy dropped out of the car and looked at me with a scared look on his face. And yes, he did seem very familiar. He was also clutching the flowers with a vague fear in his eyes. The location was quite close to a cemetery too.

Starting to feel very uncomfortable, I thought that this was enough and asked the guy for the fare, so that I could forever be free of the crazed expression on his face for ever. He seemed not not notice me and went past me, walking on the aisle towards two huge black gates opening into a cemetery. It was the Marble Cemetery on that street. That was enough to put me off. But I was determined to see this through and walked slowly behind him. The guy seemed to be crying freely now. Feeling a little bad for him, I was reminded of Alan, an old friend from way back in time. He loved yellow roses too, I thought. He entered the cemetery and seemed to know the path to a particular grave very well. He walked towards the grave and I followed him. The grave seemed very familiar too and I again for the second time that day, felt someone walk over it. A flash of lightning broke the serenity and a clap of thunder followed. The gravestone or should I say gravestones cause there were two and very alike, had very familiar names carved on them. They simply cried, "Felix" and "Fiona". I was thunderstruck. Speechless. My last thought was that the person who was in front of me was indeed my good friend, Alan.

Yeah, but surely, someone was walking over my grave. Life isnt very interesting at the bottom of a six foot hole in the ground you know.

1 comment:

  1. Good one. Hope there are more like these. ( As usual I LOVE stories).


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