A ballad of death

Picture this…

You’re in your office, minding your own business

And your boss gave you a Tupperware of vegetarian biscuits.

Out of courtesy, you eat them of course.

OK, enough of 2nd person narrative.

Ok so here’s the thing, the biscuits were actually really delicious. And vegetarian? “Throw away the beef and toss over some Vegetarian biscuits”, I would say. It’s good for diet and all that health matters.

So after an hour of praising these biscuits, my stomach was in so much pain.

It was like shards of glass. No, it was like someone inflated my stomach. I couldn’t do my work. The pain was so disturbing.

How about another metaphor? Just like an earthquake, the pain was at the focus of my stomach which traveled like waves to spine, sending tremors to the epicenter [my brain]. Wow, so maybe that’s why I couldn’t do my work properly.

For 4 hours I suffered and I teared a little. That was how bad it was. It’s not pregnancy-bad, but it was painful enough.

You would probably ask me, “Hafiiz, why not just head to the toilet?” OK here’s the thing, all my close friends know I do not like to go to the toilet. Let’s just keep it that way.

Luckily I was let off early to get back home, but the worst is yet to come.

I got onto my 169 bus and it was like sitting on the engine itself. And it’s not as if I was acclimatizing to the heat, it was actually getting hotter. I could smell the burning cloth from my uniform and maybe a thin layer of my butt got burnt.

Oh, shall we go the Ass-sweat I left on the seat? Let’s not go there, shall we?

I got off, drenched in sweat and got onto another bus and cuddled under the air-conditioner like a burnt cricket.

Well, I’m much better now, thank God.

UNTIL NEXT TIME!!

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