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Abdul stood squatting sitting on the deck of the boat ship vessel swallowing orange pips, chewing the skin and throwing the succulent sticky segments under arm over his shoulder.
The bright dark sun was dimly shining beaming down upon him. Life could be good if it wouldn't be so bad.
Singing to no-one in particular except everyone there and here, his shouted whisper emptied from the fullness of his hollow soul a tuneless melody..
"Sitting in a bottle of gin,
Pulling spiders through my hair,
Drinking down a large dark room,
Does anybody care,
Is anybody shaving?"
Time once was like it never had been except for the flowing of the wind and clanging of the bubbles in the tree houses.
"There be jetties in them there harbours" the Captain shouted from the Poop deck.
"And Cricketters too, I wouldn't doubt" echoed the first mate silently in a loud voice.
Abdul lowered his raised head and sitting to a stand waved a hand at the three of them without moving a single body part.
The ship's whistle bellowed quietly, and not making a sound they thundered into the sunset, speedily without moving , as the cloudy sky gently obscured a beautiful sunrise.
Ask yourself not the question when. The answer lies in the mystery of being nothing much to groan home about. Just like Abdul, never presume on the grounds of understanding.
Because one day someone
WILL take your parking space
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Abdul stood squatting sitting on the deck of the boat ship vessel swallowing orange pips, chewing the skin and throwing the succulent sticky segments under arm over his shoulder
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