The Red Kitten at the Green Signal.
Why did the kitten cross the road?
Possibilty #1. She was following her feline instincts and closing in towards a heap of defeathered chicken skin and rejected gut, lying in the dirty canister outside "Hafiz's Meat Shop".
Possibilty #2. She was being chased away from the heap of defeathered chicken skin and rejected gut, lying in the dirty canister outside "Hafiz's Meat Shop".
Possibilty #3. She was the Christopher Columbus of the kitten world and was out on her brave little "Castile"-ian expedition.
Possibilty #4. She was just a poor kitten lost in the concrete jungle.(The kind of situation that used to form the staple fodder for the Disney animation movies.)
Possibilty #5. She was just plain suicidal.
But it doesn't matter now; her fate has been written by the bloody tread-marks on the sweltering asphalt road. 0950hrs.
Like a victim being raped by a group of junkies, each taking his time and turn to make use of the situation and his phallus. She writhed and squiggled in pain, her puny body disfiguring. And the busy commuters took their turn, as the signal turned green. Their cars as mighty gesture of braggadocio. They took their turn.
It was like any other day on the road. Burning eyes, honking symphonies, revving two-strokes, running pedestrians, sweaty and dusty people hanging on their lives and the bus, reluctant school-goers. And somewhere beneath all this choreographed mayhem, she counted her last breath, remembering all whom she loved, begging Him to forgive all her mistakes and take away her pain. And God smiled upon her.
A true incident that left me horrified after witnessing the sheer nonchalantness of the thriving civilisation we live in.
Possibilty #1. She was following her feline instincts and closing in towards a heap of defeathered chicken skin and rejected gut, lying in the dirty canister outside "Hafiz's Meat Shop".
Possibilty #2. She was being chased away from the heap of defeathered chicken skin and rejected gut, lying in the dirty canister outside "Hafiz's Meat Shop".
Possibilty #3. She was the Christopher Columbus of the kitten world and was out on her brave little "Castile"-ian expedition.
Possibilty #4. She was just a poor kitten lost in the concrete jungle.(The kind of situation that used to form the staple fodder for the Disney animation movies.)
Possibilty #5. She was just plain suicidal.
But it doesn't matter now; her fate has been written by the bloody tread-marks on the sweltering asphalt road. 0950hrs.
Like a victim being raped by a group of junkies, each taking his time and turn to make use of the situation and his phallus. She writhed and squiggled in pain, her puny body disfiguring. And the busy commuters took their turn, as the signal turned green. Their cars as mighty gesture of braggadocio. They took their turn.
It was like any other day on the road. Burning eyes, honking symphonies, revving two-strokes, running pedestrians, sweaty and dusty people hanging on their lives and the bus, reluctant school-goers. And somewhere beneath all this choreographed mayhem, she counted her last breath, remembering all whom she loved, begging Him to forgive all her mistakes and take away her pain. And God smiled upon her.
A true incident that left me horrified after witnessing the sheer nonchalantness of the thriving civilisation we live in.
posted by emeraldpond at 8:05 AM
1 Comments:
nice one man...
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