Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Prophecy In a Tesco

Two men, both in their late twenties, are standing near the fridges in a Tesco, where the air is colder than it is outside and the light is slightly yellow. One man looks purposefully at the other and it is as if the other’s attention is held in, cocooned away from the other people in the shop for an instant.
“You look like my father”.
He keeps looking.
“You will have a child that looks like me, is like me.”
The speaker’s face is gaunt and haggard, the strain of suffering passing over his expression.
“Take care of this child. Nourish his interests and make sure he immerses himself early.”
His words are esoteric, definitely, but his tone and his expression are measured, sane.
“There are two paths he can take.”
The piercing stare goes on for longer than it should between polite strangers, but his gaze doesn’t falter. They continue, locked in the time warp.
Longer, much longer.
The sound, like a bell, from the cash register breaks the spell, far off, as if it had broken through a membrane.
“Take care.” Says the speaker, and he looks down at his basket. The other pauses, almost irritated, but it is sinking in. When questions start coming to him, the speaker has already gone.


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