The Falling Circus

Something you normally wouldn't see

He was sitting on the aeroplane and then, he was not. It was not like he had stepped out of the jet. Wind hit his face, harder and faster than you can ever imagine. His skin and hair was tugged back. His lips were forcefully tucked inside his mouth. His lungs found it difficult to catch a breath. Sam was falling through the air. One moment he was sitting in the aeroplane, a comfortable economy seat, the next, a vacuum suction and he was plummeting through the air. It almost seemed impossible, but that's what was happening.

Things were happening so fast, yet things were happening slow. Wait, how's that possible! That's when the bout of panic hit him. I'm going to die. Oddly enough, he didn't mind accepting it. His body spread apart, attempting to embrace the feeling, the pressure of falling down... but you can't really do that.

Winds of that pressure don't allow you to do that.

Sam turned his head to the right, an elephant was crashing down through the air. Its trunk was stuck up and like a whistle in the wind, the blow of his trumpet was heard through the air. On another side, there was a whole wing section rushing down and Sam could swear there was two mimes who were actually pulling themselves up with an imaginary rope.

Then came the clowns falling down, or cycling down if you will. They were on a single wheel cycle. Their feet worked furiously on the pedals and the wheels spun faster through the air. And as they descended down, the balls in their hands were juggled with even greater flexibility.

It was only then that Sam noticed the makeup on their faces. The white, black and red mix was running down their faces. They were scared just like him, they were afraid just like him, they all knew they were going to die.

The vast expanse of blue was growing stronger with each passing second and it was only a matter of time.

Then, splash.

Sam’s face felt wet. Like twitchy nerves, he jumped off his bed. His roommate stood there with a mug in his hands. “You need to stop dreaming”.

“It was the same nightmare over and over again. A circus falling in plane crash”, Sam spoke with a look of grave horror on his face.

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The Lament of Herc

Herc looked at his reflection in the mirror and asked himself the same question that he asked when he was coming here. He wanted to just lash out, a punch on the mirror causes it to crack, cracks spread,in seconds it shatters and glass pieces fall. “Hey man”, a voice called out to him and a shoulder nudged his own. A hand that was not his own stretched out beside him and washed him under a gush of tap water. “You mind?” the man asked as Herc stared at the face beside him. He was in the bathroom, there was crowd behind waiting to use the wash-basins. He took a few steps back and made way for the man.
 
Rays of multicoloured headlights poked into his eyes. Herc was angry at himself, no not at himself he decided. “Hey Herc, over here”, he could barely hear Rocky’s voice over the blaring techno music. His friends were sitting at the table, the waiter had already bought their drinks. Holding on to threads, that’s what this meeting was about. Friends trying to hold onto their friendship as life spreads them apart.

“This one’s yours”, Cass pointed out to a glass when he took his seat. In spite of that stupid question that made him angry, Herc was happy to be among friends. They drank, they danced, they drank a bit more. Once upon a time, they all would have said, the night is young, but now, it is more like the day is over. To each of their own home’s they went.

The next day may have bought on a new day for Herc, but there was still a lingering anger and it never effing went away. Yet, with that anger, there was a joy, a new day brought new opportunities.

To office he went, he did not hate his job, neither did he like it. It was something like... you rather relax at home, but work is okay. The work was something he like to do, but there was as much as he wished it, his rules were not abided here. It was the market rules and his bosses rules, but not his own... that was only in his head.

The sun went down and the moon rose up and darkness was put at bay with artificial lights. Yet, Herc chewed on his pencil completing work that never got done which pushed him to sit in office and get home late. He may be done with today’s work, but tomorrow’s remained and day after thats too. A list was there with his name – his to-do’s. He just wanted to get it completed.

His real work awaited Herc at home, but he would be too tired when he reached. Work that he did not get paid for, it was his passion and you get paid only for your passion when you get recognition.

The second hand ticked forward, the countdown for the next precocious minute. Getting off late made it difficult for his passion, for his friends. Oh, what would Herc give to change all that. Life would be much easier then.

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