The Man Without a Number
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- Parts 1
Complete Tue, Dec 2, 2014<5 mins
Ever since I got here everyone has been asking, what number is yours?
There's an urgency in their voice, the pitch wavers between frantic and accusatory.
With my first step in I knew I wasn't welcome here.
But there aren't a lot of options for a desperate man.
I see rage in their eyes as I put my stuff down and sit.
My indifference is probably to blame here.
With all my stuff in its place I turn back and relax.
I've marked the territory, this is mine.
I see rage in their eyes as they ask again, "what number is yours?"
And I look back and say. No, I am the man without a number. And no I didn't choose this. I was forced. Pushed. But now that I'm here, I'm not giving up this place anymore.
The small space is reeking heavily of anger, there's murder in their eyes.
As we prepare for a night long standoff, there is a complete stillness.
And that silence is broken by a voice in the background - "Welcome to Indian Railways, we wish you a pleasant and a safe journey"
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indianrailways
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"Please, let him go!" I begged, struggling to free myself but his tight grip around me refused to budge. A scream escaped me as he jerked me around to face him. "Why do you care about what happens to him?! Who is he to you?!" With each word, he was getting more and more enraged, his grip tightening even further. "No one! He's no one to me. I just want you to stop hurting him, please!" The painful groans and hitting noise in the background were scaring me further. I don't want this to happen to anyone, especially because of me. "Imani is mine! YOU STOLE HER!" Shut up, you idiot! Oh god, judging by the sadistic smile creeping onto Zaviyaar's face, That guy is going to die today. To stop it all, just as he looked up to order his guards, I held his face, dragged him down to face me and slammed my lips against his. Oh fuck... his lips are so soft. I wonder what moisturiser he uses. ------------------------------------------------- All rights to this story belong to me. No part should be copied or plagiarised. This is my work and any similarity to anyone's real life, real name or anything else is completely incidental.
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