The alarm rings at 5am. It’s time for the Monday blues. The daily grind begins yet AGAIN. Welcome to yet another week of groundhog days. Beady-eyed, David accidentally hits the stop button instead of the snooze button.
At 6.30am, his eyes reluctantly open to the sight of the sun shining into his apartment. Oh crap. I’m going to be late. He quickly gets dressed and dashes out of the house. On the way to the train station, he sees others like him going through the motions. He sees the exact same people on the commute to work everyday. They’re as much a part of the scenery as the buildings and shops.
When he gets to work, everything is as he left it on Friday evening. The same annoying people. The same complaints. The same, “How was your weekend?” rubbish. As if anyone actually cares. David’s boss isn’t impressed that he’s late for work – but then again, when is that man ever impressed? I hate having a boss. I’d rather work for myself.
David overhears the BBC playing in the background. The usual plethora of bad news. Something about Trump. The Middle East. The refugee crisis. Brad and Angelina. He should feel fortunate about all that the stability he has, but instead he just feels blah. My life is chugging along without any input from me.
He finishes the work day as he always has. Same crap tomorrow. On the commute home, the train breaks down. Great, this is just want I need on a Monday. He decides to get off the train. Might as well grab a bite. Where am I anyway?
He walks around the neighbourhood. Working-class. You can tell by the clothes and the prices in the supermarket. He gets annoyed. There isn’t a single place with anything remotely healthy. What does it take to get a decent meal around here? Just as he’s about to give up, he sees a shrine.
Something in him is drawn towards it. There’s an energy about that place that reminds him of something from his childhood. A time when he saw the world as a place full of opportunities and possibilities. Old trees surround the old wooden structure. He notices a lady in red sitting by a table. She’s got a deck of cards in her hands.
Trust shrines to have funny things like tarot card readers. Do people still believe in this superstitious nonsense? The lady smiles at him. He looks around to see if there’s anyone else around. No – it’s just him.
“Hello,” she says. “Have a seat.”
David shrugs. Might as well. Not like he has anything else to do. She’s got a deck of tarot cards on the table. Oh, no. One of those hocus pocus people.
“I’m Dipa,” she says. “What brings you here?”
Look at her acting like this is some sort of serendipitous moment. Doesn’t she know – there’s a logical explanation for everything.
“A broken train,” David answers.
Dipa laughs a little. She’s used to hearing this kind of stuff. She picks up the deck and begins shuffling the cards. A card flies out of the deck. She reaches forward, picks it up, and turns it around. She smiles.
(To be continued…)