Tags

, , , , , , , ,

Angie called her friend and couldn’t wait for him to pick up the phone. She had something very important to tell him. (You are probably thinking that she wants to tell him how much she loves him or how important he is in her life or how wealthy (on the emotional level) she has become since she knew him, but no, this is not what she was calling for. I really wish we can call someone just to say the above without sounding emotional, or too attached, or too positive, or too childish or too much in love. I wonder when the following lyrics of Louis Armstrong’s song are really applicable:

“The Colors of a rainbow… so pretty… in the sky

Are also on the faces… of people … going by

I see friends shaking hands… saying… how do you do

They’re really saying… I love you”.)

“Pick up the phone, pick it up, pick it up, … Come on… where are you for God sake?” She thought. “Pick up the phone… Pick it up… I want to talk to you… Come on…”

She looked at the street in front of her, noticed how crowded it was at such a time of the day in this foreign city and couldn’t help but smile, although the ideas in her mind were boiling and the voices in her head were arguing loudly. She called him again one more time, but to no avail.

She wanted to tell him about the dream she had. She wanted to tell him that she has seen herself beating a guy and that she couldn’t believe that such a peaceful unharmful person that she always thought herself to be would harm another person. The strange thing was that she had this dream several times before, it wasn’t exactly the same dream of course, but in each time, she would see herself beating, hitting and especially kicking one particular guy. The first time she had this dream was about a year ago, long before she had left her former job, and when she saw that guy the next day, she kept telling herself to stay away from him. She didn’t even lift her head to look into his face. She simply did her best to say away from him and to avoid him altogether, but that day was very painful, because she kept seeing him wherever she went.

It is ironic, isn’t it? Because Mr. Coolpin, the guy she has been beating in her dreams, used to share the same office with her and above all that, he was Dr. Machintosh’s favorite student. Let us say, that what differentiated Angie from Mr. Coolpin and from Dr. Machintosh wasn’t only their personalities, but almost everything.  People would describe Angie as an energetic dynamic hard working person. But Angie would view Mr. Coolpin as a very slow motion person, who used to take ages to complete a task, while when that same task was put on Angie’s shoulders (by Dr. Machintosh), Angie would have had to finish it in less than a few minutes- no matter how hard or how time demanding that task was. Mr. Coolpin had many privileges that allowed him to show up to work at any time and to leave at any time. While Angie had to work fixed hours and wasn’t allowed to leave during the day except for her lunch break.  Not to mention, that Dr. Machintosh was always happy with Mr. Coolpin’s performance and always angry at Angie (sometimes, for no apparent reason). He used to walk very slowly with a frown on his face. He hardly used to say anything the entire day except when he was on the phone or talking to his friends. Sometimes, Angie used to spend her entire day in the office, without uttering a single word, while her former boss would be screaming and talking loudly to her visitors or on the phone, as if she was the only human being on the entire floor.

This morning, when Angie woke up after seeing such a horrific dream, she just wanted to tell someone about it so that she could probably find a way to deal with this unknown anger that keeps coming back in her dream. She simply wanted to take a long break from her former work. She wanted to forget the people who made her life miserable and hellish for a long time. She was telling herself that she is in a different place now, with different people who appreciate her and who acknowledge her work. But still, she couldn’t help it… Sometimes she used to be afraid of meeting Mr. Coolpin in an elevator or in some hall, she would wonder if suddenly she would fall apart and lose control…

She picked up her phone again and tried to call her friend…

 

Advertisements