Red Tide
The janitor stood there, mop in hand, muttering to himself. The depravity of it all sickened him. It was the same, day after day. Blood spattered all over the floor, entrails unfurled and spread all over the place, almost as if someone, or something had enjoyed the bloodbath. Even though the sun shone bright, hot and cheerful outside, none of it creeped inside. It’s almost as if, as if, the sun had forsaken the place and decided it unredeemable. The place stank of death or at least he imagined how it would, if death had a stink. There was an oppressive silence to the place. No insects buzzed around, no birds chirped, hell, even the winds didn’t blow here. And yet, if he concentrated hard, he could almost hear him breathing. Yes, the heavy, steady, slow breaths meant that he was still asleep. Thank god for this one tiny little snip of mercy!
He had just come after attending his grandchild’s 4th birthday party. The contrast was stark, no doubt, but if he pushed his imagination hard, he could draw similarities. Imagine a room after a kid’s birthday party. Replace the blood with soda and the intestines with colourful streamers, the darkness with light, and the silence with the gaiety of excited children. You get the picture!
He was slightly alarmed with the darkness of his thoughts, comparing his grandson’s birthday party to this hellish place. Maybe he ought to consult a shrink, he thought to himself.
There was a small scuffing sound behind him followed by a high-pitched bark. He almost died of the shock as his old body reacted automatically, performing a pirouetting high jump that would have made an Olympian proud. There it was, in complete incongruity to the place, a small little pup. It was a white furry little thing with extra ordinarily wet and large eyes. It stood there, shivering in fright, its tail tightly hugging its behind, ears flattened against itself, a drooping head, and inquisitive eyes. Clearly, curiosity had won over fright. Stupid dog!
‘Go shoo!’ he said. ‘Run away you idiot.’
The dog did not budge. The janitor went and kicked the dog hard, hoping he could scare it out of the place. The dog yelped as it was thrown a few feet from its place. Yet, instead of scurrying out of the place, it seemed to grow angry as it bared its protesting its treatment.
This one had heart no doubt he thought to himself. ‘Oh well, it’s your life. You want to stay inside, go ahead by all means’ he said out loud, full of malice, as he stepped out of the door and closed the door to the lion’s cage.