5.50 a.m., Monday morning.
6.50 a.m., a bang on the shin, wrinkles on the face, clenching of the teeth.
7.20 a.m., arriving at the bus stop--early by ten minutes, encore 1984, a lass lunging and falling on her face on the road--out of weakness, lifting her by her arm, settling her.
My bus arrives and is waiting for me to get in, a feeling of helplessness, getting into the bus, she falls off to the floor again.
‘It’s Ok. Just Shut It Out!!’, says my mind.
And am off to "doublespeak" and "thoughtcrime".