November 4, 2015

story of sam

Sam is a laborer who works and lives in an old shop. Day time, he works his ass off for a meager pay and night time, he calls it a day at the upper floor of the shop, which he rented. He might not have good prospects as a laborer but, for what he lacks in wealth/achievement, he makes it up with his happy outlook in life.

Sharing his rented abode, is Sam’s wife called Hilda. While Sam is what a commoner would consider as a good looking person, the same can’t be said about Hilda. Hilda is fat, hideous and she looks like a bloated corpse fished out of a septic pond. But Sam likes Hilda for who she is (for some unfathomable reasons…), and they have led a loving life together. They’ve never had a fight before, and both of them seems to be made for each other.

One night, Sam has to wake up from his sleep to answer the big call of nature, and off he goes to the loo located at the back of the house, which is right next to the kitchen. While he is straining to ooze out the dry turd from his coarse laborer diet, up comes Hilda into the kitchen. She knocks on the toilet door,

“Honey, what’s wrong?”
“Bad food, I guess. Why are you still up so late?”
“Just checking if you’re alright… maybe I can keep you company…”

She then proceeds to get the kettle to boil some water to make Sam some hot tea. And while Hilda is waiting for the water to boil, Sam tells Hilda through the toilet door about his day and some crazy stories some of the guys told him at the shop. They share some laughs and deep inside, Sam is glad to have Hilda’s company there, and he feels homely with the smell of gas burner in the middle of the night, mixing with the hot pungent air inside the loo.

After Sam has done the last fart of the business, he wipes himself proper, pulls the flush and gets out from the loo – in high anticipation for his hot tea and perhaps, the embrace of Hilda. And then BAM! The smell of the burner disappears. The kitchen light is off. No sight of Hilda, no sight of burner, no sight of kettle. It is as if, everything has all along been a perception. Only thing that is still there, is the smell of Sam’s last fart. Confused, Sam quickly skedaddles into the bedroom to look for Hilda, and there she is – sleeping soundly with both arms up on her head, armpit hairs peeking out of her short pajamas sleeves.

“Hilda… Hilda… wake up…”
[wipes drools] “…what?… what’s going on?”
“Were you at the kitchen just now? Where’s the hot tea?”
[dazzled] “What hot tea? What are you talking about, honey?”
“I was at the loo, you were talking to me, and then you disappeared…”
“What? I’ve been sleeping here all these while honey…’

Sam quickly dashes to the kitchen to touch on the burner – it’s cold. The kettle’s cold too, and so is Sam. He suddenly realizes, that the person whom he talked to, couldn’t have been Hilda… Whoever/whatever she is, she sounded like Hilda, talked like Hilda and felt like Hilda. But it wasn’t Hilda. (Sam eventually finds out later in his life that the ‘person’ who talked to him that night, is something that came from a sad ending to a WWII incident in the very place he’s living in…)


Based on a true story happened to someone I know, at a place I am familiar with.

michaelooi  | imaginations  | 

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