Tuesday, April 12, 2005

Close Call

In the frenzied atmosphere, I felt myself been pushed and pulled.

There were loud noises everywhere.

The people around me wore funny looks on their faces. They screamed at every possible instance. The heat made their faces sweaty.

Constantly bumping into each other, some tried holding their ground. The others, overcome by emotion, were all over the place. They tried moving their feet as quickly as possible. But it was hard.

Smoke engulfed the place. In the middle of the madness, someone tugged at my shirt. It was 'R'. He had that ghastly look on his face too. Someone else pulled my leg. Three others pushed me around.

It was confusing. I tried to stay sane, but was becoming increasingly hard. All I was thinking was, "How the hell do I get out of here alive?!"

I thought it was Armageddon.

I pushed my way through the crowd, to the edge. And I jumped. I broke free. I ran away from that place. And I could breathe again.

I left all of them behind, screaming.

And I thought, "God! For as long as I live, for as long as I am sober and of sound mind... I am so not stepping foot on a dance floor again!"

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