An unexpected tale of a guy who lives hard days


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2. Mountain Fog

You sat there on the bus. you looked out the window. The fog filled the surroundings, and you realized how humid the air was. You realized it was hard for you to breath. Fixing your logical thoughts, you know that you are accelerating up the mountain. You were joyful.   You wanted to travel, not to see the world, not to gain experience, not in search for happiness. Instead you wanted to move away, away from something, something you know you can not own nor touch. 

 

As the bus came to rest at its final station, you were asked to get off. You did not want to get off the bus. You did't even know the name of this place. You were lost, like a child with sand grains in his eyes. You were lost, in an unknown place. You were lost in tears of joy. You were far, far away from that something you hate, that something you never want to see again. You had made a decision, and that decision had brought you here. 

 

You asked for information. The people looked at you in high spirits and laugh. They did not speak your language. They found your verbal melodies funny and entertaining. You were hopeless. You didn't know where you were? You checked your mobile, and saw no signal. 

 

Across the muddy, narrow street you saw a 'Hotel' sign. Rushing, you splashed your way across the road, paying no attention as your clothes got caught with muddy stains. You were gasping as you reach the entrance of the hotel. Ringing no bell, giving no signal, you turned the doorknob. The metal joint cracked as you opened the door.

 

'Hello...,' a warm, welcoming voice greeted you from the direction of the wood table. 'Can i help you?,' the south east Asian accent brought over a smile across your face. 

 

'Hi, I am looking for a room to stay for tonight,' You thought she was beautiful. You wanted her from that moment. You needed love, you wanted sex. 'So, is there a free room for me tonight?.'

 

She handed the key over to you. She did not say anything. You were surprise. There were loud noises coming from your left. Curios, you swung around to find a group of old Asian elders watching an american movie. Is was an old, rusted television, connected to a piece of metal which served as an antenna. The visuals were distorted, but he sound was pretty clear you say.

 

You turned around to collect your key. 'thanks,' was it that necessary to give her a wink? You realized how desperate you were. You needed love.

 

Before you could take step towards the worn out skeleton stairs, you stopped. Something about the television caught your attention. You dropped all your bags, and jumped the old men a little as they landed on the  wooden floor. You paced yourself slowly close to the window near the TV, dragging your feet along because you were exhausted. You looked out the window, to see the orange sky. The sun was rising, and the fog was descending. You listen to the voice on the television carefully. You found it hard to believe. You did not find the collective of elder men listening/watching a film that they could not relate to nor understand surprising, but something else. You knew that voice, that pace of speech and that tone being spoken on the television. You knew that it was the voice of a famous actress. You knew this famous actress better than anybody else. McAlister, her name was McAlister. 

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