Double Identity(Part III)

The climax of my story finally reached, and I warn you my readers, there are not many pages left till the end of my story, but more empty pages yet to come for my restless, ceaseless life. I confess to you that I did, from time to time, think about destroying both of us. I suspected it be the best way to stem that fetid evil. It was beyond horrific when one day it came to your disillusion that the practice of exorcising the evil spirits must be done at the expense of your own self. You and your own self, to be more precise. Or to say, the evil spawns in you, in that reflection of you in the mirror.

Then one day came was the neighbor who used to drop by with baskets of tomatoes when my mother was still alive. It must had been an eventful day, for the frail wooden door hadn't heard its knocks for years. As I stood up and was ready to make my way to the door, all in a style of complete insouciance since now the curiosity of how my alias would react overrode the astonishment of my unwelcomed guest.

Now, if I ended the story here and deemed it a cliffhanger, I wouldn't be more grateful, for what that wide-eyed evil did next was extremely hideous. Hideous! He started as well, much to my contentment, when he heard the door knocks. Contrary to my presumption though, he triggered up and within a few steps, there he landed beside the door, as swiftly as a hare. My neighbor's characteristic, jingling laughs swarmed into the room, the next thing I knew. Once I saw the downy leg of hers poising on the threshold, noted that the conventional dressing code was not prevalently adoptable in this area, hence the permission for dresses which were short enough to reveal one's legs, not to mention unshaved legs.

Once I saw her downy leg poising on the threshold, I jerked my head with such violence that the neck has been pretty swollen till now. Much to my bewilderment and disgust, I saw not a single flesh and blood standing before me. The door was well-shut. Little spots of swiveling shadows only belonged to those importunate flies hovering on an unfinished cake.

(to be continued...)

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Musings. Ex Libris

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