Carousel #7
“…Your bags may be retrieved from carousel #7”
She heard the instructions saturate the air with urgency. The woman’s distant voice floated between each one of their disengaged expressions and they effectively knew just what to do in order to find what they were looking for. They knew they’d find it on ‘Carousel #7’
Slowly revolving luggage bags proudly flaunt their wears with excruciating monotony.
“That looks like mine, wait no…”
the bag slides directly in front of you as your eyes follow while it moves away.
“…that’s not it.”
And how, all your heart longs for, is to find it. To find your bag, because you are certain that it is there, circulating and waiting to be found. And to be found by you. So you keep watching, searching and hoping.
Your bag is absolutely there, somewhere in that cluttered collage. Drifting, you have carried this bag before, and his purpose is to be found. Because every bag has only one true owner, with its contents stored only for her to enjoy. She waited, and watched as the unclaimed bags continued to pass her by, but she did not want them although they called for her. She’d wait.
Her eyes covering each article like a blanket, she found old bags, new bags, BIG bags and small bags. The newer, unworn bags sparked like fiery diamonds around the dingy carousel. Sometimes, they’d find their bags two at the same time. As if the two bags were quietly intertwined, inextricable from one another. She waited on the borders, careful not become impatient and cross. She was watching, looking and hoping.
Until finally, the brilliant ray she had been waiting for twinkled around the corner towards her. It was moving steadily in her direction, in a determined path. Too slowly. She could not wait to lift it up, and bring it away with her no matter how heavy the load. She had found him and could not wait to pick him up…
And carry him home.
She heard the instructions saturate the air with urgency. The woman’s distant voice floated between each one of their disengaged expressions and they effectively knew just what to do in order to find what they were looking for. They knew they’d find it on ‘Carousel #7’
Slowly revolving luggage bags proudly flaunt their wears with excruciating monotony.
“That looks like mine, wait no…”
the bag slides directly in front of you as your eyes follow while it moves away.
“…that’s not it.”
And how, all your heart longs for, is to find it. To find your bag, because you are certain that it is there, circulating and waiting to be found. And to be found by you. So you keep watching, searching and hoping.
Your bag is absolutely there, somewhere in that cluttered collage. Drifting, you have carried this bag before, and his purpose is to be found. Because every bag has only one true owner, with its contents stored only for her to enjoy. She waited, and watched as the unclaimed bags continued to pass her by, but she did not want them although they called for her. She’d wait.
Her eyes covering each article like a blanket, she found old bags, new bags, BIG bags and small bags. The newer, unworn bags sparked like fiery diamonds around the dingy carousel. Sometimes, they’d find their bags two at the same time. As if the two bags were quietly intertwined, inextricable from one another. She waited on the borders, careful not become impatient and cross. She was watching, looking and hoping.
Until finally, the brilliant ray she had been waiting for twinkled around the corner towards her. It was moving steadily in her direction, in a determined path. Too slowly. She could not wait to lift it up, and bring it away with her no matter how heavy the load. She had found him and could not wait to pick him up…
And carry him home.
posted by biNy @ 12:37 AM
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