vendredi 27 septembre 2013

A hit on me

Oh my!! I remember that day perfectly.

One ordinary day at the library back in Rabat, I walked between book shelves trying to make up my mind about what to read. I was at loss, so many books, so little time. Anyway I stopped at the department of English Literature, and I glimpsed a little fancy-covered book, I took it and to my great luck, I found it to be “Oliver Twist” by Charles Dickens. Yes that was on my “to read” list. With that masterpiece in hand, I went to the most far away, distanced chair I found, for to read, is to be in another world, I need some space, somewhere calm and silent. I started reading the book. It was a heavy book from the very beginning. 

My feet just started to leave earth, into the world of fantasy when somebody pulled me back to earth. “Yes” I snapped as politely as I could manage; It was a girl, seems like  my age, white-skined, black-haired. Looking down at me, she asked me about the book am reading; thousands and thousands of books in the library and she wanted the one single book between my hands. I told her its title and even let her check it out. When she gave it back, she sweetly said that she’s heard that title elsewhere, I confirmed, she was damn right, that title was given to some song, the reason? I don't know of. And the girl was pleased. I wanted to go back where I left; I smiled at her as a dismissal polite smile and then carried on my task. Something was wrong with her, or maybe with me. Whatever!

I got back to my reading. As preoccupied my mind was, I was conscious about somebody eyes at me over the book. That strange feeling of being watched washed my body. I kept pushing it to some dark side in mind but in vain. I finally looked up. It was the same disturbing girl. Just sitting across of me and staring. That's rude, I thought, to just stare at people like that. Or at least that's what I've been told as a child. I forced a polite smile and before she voiced that phrase lingering between her open lips, I returned to my Utopia. She didn't let go. 
..........