I miss my studying years. Thank you, love. I’ll try and get over this hangover by staying in this Saturday night. Pfff.
Jinki watches as a new man is pushed inside his dark cage. He watches from the shadows as the rusty barred doors are locked once more and the screeching sound still makes his hair stand on end. Something black drips from the ceiling, but everything seems black in this darkness. Everything but that pink head of hair on the ground.
“Stand up,” he says to the man who’s sprawled on the dirty floor. “You don’t want them to find you down when the come back.”
The other raises his head, only then registering Jinki’s presence in the room. He looks at his face, then at his hands. His hands aren’t in cuffs. His hands are free.
“Where is the key?” the pink haired man cries, panicked.
“What key is that, young man?”
“The key to the cuffs. You have it, don’t you?” Jinki does not answer. He reaches for his pack in his back pocket and lights up a smoke. “Sir? The key?”
“I have no key, key-man”
“But your hands-they are free. Why are your hands free?” he walks up to him and grabs at his worn shirt, clinging on it. He’s close to tears. Jinki pities him, but it won’t make any difference if he shows it.
“My hands are free because I have no desire to break out-and they know that.”
“What? What are you talking about? We have to get out! I shouldn’t have been caught! I shouldn’t have ventured outside in this hell. What have I done - what have I- please, please, get us out here.”
“Stop touching me, fluffy pink ball. Step back. This is my comfort zone and you’re in it without my consent.”
Kibum steps back, letting go. That voice is too authoritative. Is that man not a prisoner as well?
“What do you mean you don’t want to get out of here. Even if you don’t, THEY don’t know that.”
Jinki rolls his eyes and takes another pull of his smoke.
“You have a fluffy brain as well, it seems. These are machines, you poor freak. They always KNOW.”
“What will happen to us now? What will happen now?”
“We wait.” Jinki answers. He does pity that boy.
“For what?” Key asks, eyes burning with hope.
“For death, weird little pink fox.
Οι άνθρωποι με καναν κτήνος και τους έχασα
Και οι μηχανές με καναν άνθρωπο και ξέχασα
Όσοι μ αγάπησαν μου δώσαν μια και έπεσα
Και όσοι με μίσησαν με αγαπούσαν έμμεσα.
Awww that was the sweetest thing I have heard so far! That is the problem, exactly. I work 8-5 and my boss tells me he still does not see the drive in me to do more things. Says I should be devoting more time at work. I don’t know what to do. I’m only there 3 weeks now and never had been in a similar position so I’m like a duck out of the water. I try to adjust and he says I seem passive. I’m lost.
I come home at 7 in the evening and sleep at 10. My life has become really stressful.
The wind up birds all over the world are not winding its springs.
Photos by Andrew Milligan/PA Wire
Baby Nala plying with a ribbon