Another Day in the Life
Rant
by Chris Hanch
What was the deal, anyway? He knew he liked people. Well, some people
that is. Certainly, he had a real distaste for most of his loud mouth
neighbors, the ones you could here outside even in the winter time with
all the windows and doors shut. They'd awaken the dead yelling across
the street to one another at 7 A.M., "Good morning! Bla, bla, bla." He
couldn't understand why they didn't walk fifty-feet or so over to one
another and carry on a lower-toned conversation close up and personal like
decent, respectful folks might do.
Maybe he just liked the silent types, those who knew when to keep their
traps shut, especially before at least 9 or 10 in the morning. Come to
think of it, there were not a lot of people he would really even want
to become close with.
He fumbled through his bedroom closet looking for something decent to
wear. There, this should do. The stripped shirt and black pants would be just
fine.
A quick shower, a shave, a little face maintenance and he was almost
ready to leave. He had been running a little behind, what with his
thoughts on people and all. OOPS! Gotta have the hat. And, mustn't forget to
stuff some oranges into a plastic sack. Never know when those will come
in handy.
Out the door he goes, smiling and courteously waving to those
stupid neighbors who are always gathered in twos and threes in front of
his place gossiping. Seems they get awfully quiet when someone they're
talking about pops into view. Oh, well, a forced smile and a curt hand
gesture won't kill him. Keeps the peace being cordial to neighbors now
and again.
It's not easy being a mime. Day after day trying to escape the
invisible box, juggling fruit and performing all manner of difficult tasks,
like smiling at people you could care less about. All that and you can't
even utter a word, not one rotten stinking word, not "hello," "goodbye,"
or even "F... you!"
He adjusts the plastic daisy atop his black derby hat and peddles an
invisible unicycle down the street. Some people in passing traffic honk,
laughing and waiving at him out their windows. But really, they just
don't have a clue.
Thank God there's one defining gesture left for the speechless.
Another Day in the Life © COPYRIGHT 2006 Chris Hanch .
Reproduction prohibited without permission from the author.
08/21/06
