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THOUGHTS FROM THE FRIDGE

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At 2 a.m in the morning, your eyes still at war. And when anything goes to war, it won't easily come home without a fight. What happens when you are awake at this time around? Where there is only silence and dark streets outside, all that is coming is probably thunder which comes along with rain. Heart and mind are supposed to be bestfriends. But tonight, they speak rage against each other, trying to dominate and prove each other's wrong. You start to feel the rush. A little voice screams loud for nicotine-therapy and then there's another voice coming from nowhere of your system saying, you've done good 2 months without it just hang on a little harder. See, this is a battle that you're thinking about. 'You vs. You'. You are right about the rain somehow, it's dropping by now, accepting your invitation. You feel the chills and so ready to make them as a lullaby. You open up the fridge door and find a glass of milk. The glass wasn't half full neither half empty but what's for sure is the milk is spoilt. You smile thinking that life is like that. You can hear all the sayings people make but it's you who know what's really happening. It is amazing how little things can open up your thought into something big. You learn, even from bad milk. If you linger through all the stuff in that fridge, you'll probably learn from the red tomatoes and 'botol kicap' too. The ultimate questions are on the table right next to the fridge. You find your way at the empty dining table and wonder. If you cannot get what you want, can God at least make you want something that you can have? It is simply a diversion which is so much easier to handle. Since you are too smart for your own self, you'll need God's trick to manipulate your sorrow. That is the only way to go. Then you ask about the trade you made with God. You want to know what the progress is. You wanted to trade love with career. You given up love desire for something else but you are still not going anywhere. Tell me this is a dream, you say. You want to close your eyes and open up in the next 5 seconds, crossing fingers that this is just a mellow-dramatic dream that you are having because you forget to wash your feet. You try it, and then you feel even foolish. Look at that fridge and how stuffs are kept in it. You have got to be kidding yourself. One more act of judgment on the cooler-box, you are officially nuts. Who are you to question God mysterious ways? Who are you to be mad at the universe? You knew God hears your every thought even if it's ridiculous. You knew that God thinks that it is not that funny to crack jokes like 'why do chickens cross the road'. And you also knew that this is now how your life is. Every seconds of it is who you are and what you have become. Then it is 3.30 a.m.

Previous short story:
THE ART OF BEING DIFFERENT
Next short story:
Me, You and the Rooftop.
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Nina Chezter Sarif

A person, with nothing much to say, except to write
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