2015年10月5日星期一

Invective



The last time I ran into her was on a crowded and crumbling stair. I sped up my pace, eyes shifting from her pale looking onto my baggy boots. They were muddy on the cramped step. Somehow my shoulder was suddenly hit by a random youngster in rush, I scowling, and then, she stopped me. In a hoarse, indifferent voice, on the trembling stair, she started her ramble on the trendiest updates of her current photography project. I did not attract to such a time-wasting propaganda, because I knew she was not a teamwork-type player. Her egocentric character repelled so many people in the last meeting that no one ever wanted to work with her. What she did in the teamwork was only boasting about her skills in photography and selling you a non-existing future. She worked without any practical action.

Her eyes never caught mine. Her hands did. I winced. She leaned. I stepped back. She followed. The last thing I want on this earth, especially when I was bumped and pushed by flood of deafening crowds, was being grabbed into her forceful harangue. This was not that kind of coercion driven by necessary and purposeful fulfillment, but of adhesive, essentially distressing exhibitionism. She presumed I was her submissive spectator; she viewed any person surrounding her in the same way.

"Do you know I am elected as the team leader for the shooting project?"

I shook my head. She gave me a sharp look in disapproval. Someone just clashed on my boots. Again.

"Well, this is an interesting job. Have you considered about joining us after our last conversation?"

"Sorry, I prefer not."

"What a pity. I assure you will gain much helpful experience there than you can imagine." She purred, holding my arm. "What about the information about people useful I asked for? Any update?" Generally, I would be astonished by her arrogance as usual. But not this time. I thought, I had it enough.

"I have no idea about that. I need to go if you excuse me." I sighed. Her slim finger lingered on my skin, provoking another shuddering tide of disgust in my stomach.

I peered into her grey eyes behind the goggles. I glanced at her snobbish face, then at my dirty boots. I walked away.

"Bye, pal."

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