Blahsphemy

A loud bang shattered the silence of the night. Must be the outlaws, she thought. There was another bang, this time closer. Now she heard strange noises coming up her drive way. Another bang, and she almost dropped the milk pail in her hand. A cold sweat broke. She started shivering. Like a ghost she glided towards the front window and peeped out. There she saw him. He was a huge man. Looked like he was bending over in submission. She couldn't make out what was happening in the dark. Then she heard him mutter under his breath, "Darn these carburettors".      

Like always the giant social network circus beckoned him. He strolled past the various stalls offering varied fare. He saw familiar faces in exotic locales, their babies, family and pretty friends. Some even had their pets, plants, cars and what not on display. Looking at all these he felt strange. He wondered, what do I have in common with them? Am I also another proud owner of another stall?

The silence formed a wall between them. She saw him trying in vain to break that wall. But when the wall started falling on her, she fled. Through the gaping void, he caught a glimpse of her teary eyes before she disappeared into oblivion.

He was a chameleon in his last life. Somehow he carried his previous life's powers on to his human form. He could imitate anyone across the room in seconds. He could blend in or stand out from a crowd in a jiffy. He really enjoyed his powers. Then he met something called a politician. He suffered a nervous break down that night.

He had story for each day. Each page in his book was a story. Or was it a day that he had in his book? He used to tear off the pages and hand it over to whoever came his way. Some of his stories were sad. Some scary. Some sweet. No one could predict what each page had in store. What baffled them most was why he called himself God.

He crashed in to the green planet with such force that it shook for three days. The tremor triggered his intergalactic sleep cells and lulled him in to a deep stupor. The green planet went back to its original state. Plants grew back, the rocks eroded, animals bred... only he didn't change or wake up from his slumber. Whenever he used to turn or twist in his sleep, the green planet experienced natural calamities of gigantic proportions. The inhabitants did serious research and figured that it was beyond their control to predict these sudden outbursts. Until that day when an oil rig accidentally stuck phosphorescent blood.

It just fell down and shattered. There was no background score or flash back. It just lay there shattered, reminding him that it can never be the same again. This one too will be another memory. But can memories become memories?

His pain welcomed him like a long lost friend. He couldn't help but surrender to its warm embrace. In fact, it has been years since he felt this way. Everyday he used to wake up dreading that the pain would come back. But, till this very moment he was spared.

His face stared at me from a magazine. It set me thinking. Why do we meet people? Somewhere I have read that we meet people for a reason. You might recognise it in an instant or in a lifetime. For instance, I met him to steal his stories. She met me to sink deeper in to sorrow. I met her to feel superior. He met me to share his fantasies. But now after all these years I realised that I met him for something else. To be a lousy character in his award winning story. She... what did she meet me for? I still haven't found that out. 

She is sleeping around with that guy from her office. Will she sleep with me? If she can sleep with him, she can sleep with me as well. What if she tells him? What if she rejects me? But how can I sleep with someone who has slept with him? It's disgusting. I am not going to look at her like that. But what if she wants to sleep with me? Let me go to sleep now. Will check her out tomorrow.