Please vote for your favourite flick of 2009. The poll is on the right side of your screen. Feel free to leave a comment about your pick.
Thank you.
1 year ago
Friday, December 11, 2009
Freedom?
“It is better to starve free than be a fat slave,” is a quote attributed to Aesop of Aesop’s Fables fame, although its authenticity (and amazingly Aesop’s very existence) is somewhat disputed. Well, whoever said that obviously hadn’t tasted a burger.
We’re all a bunch of big fat slaves, irrespective of waist size, and we know it. We are slaves to multinational companies who force their products down our throats. We are slaves to a global mass media whose lies we swallow whole. We are slaves to organised religion. We are slaves to our own egos. We are slaves to ourselves. And you know what the best part is? We enjoy every minute of it, yours truly included.
That’s right. We have become such a commodity-centric species that our very survival depends on mass consumption of poison, lies and delusions on a daily basis. Isn’t that just great?
And then there’s the fact that we are so morally bankrupt that we think it’s okay to steamroll our way to a predefined, elusive ‘success’, losing whatever that is left of our integrity along the way. We don’t even realise that, in our almost indecent hurry to get there, we have effectively eliminated any chance of freeing ourselves from this bondage, this shameless servitude that we have the audacity to call freedom.
No, I did not contradict myself there. How can you ‘free’ yourself from freedom itself, you ask? The answer is you can’t. Why? Because you’re a slave; a slave to a psycho-physical construct the little red horned guy on your left shoulder wants you to call freedom, freewill, independence, or what-have-you. You’re not free. You never will be. Don’t kid yourself. ‘Freedom’ itself has you on a leash, bound and gagged. And you like it that way.
Don’t get me wrong; this is not paranoia talking. Heck, it’s what I want. How can I be paranoid about something I know I want, nay need? That’s just tosh. And I’m not preaching either; far from it. Why would I want to be a killjoy?
Point is, no human being on this planet is truly free till he or she has given up his or her quest for freedom. We spend all our lives looking for it; much like the knights of yore who went in search for the mythical white stag; but, unfortunately, few of us will ever find it. Reason being this ‘freedom’ we so desperately crave is, in fact, just another commodity, to put it crudely.
Mere rhetoric? Hardly.
Think about it: you have so many obligations to fulfill, so many goals and expectations to live up to, so much to accomplish that you hardly have the time to do anything else. That is why you have become a slave to the system, as a means of escape.
The food you eat, the books you read, the music you listen to is all part and parcel of that system. And you, out of sheer helplessness (inadvertently of course) have labeled it freedom. In other words, you have paid for that ‘freedom’. Hence my argument that freedom as we know it is a commodity.
Is that a bad thing, though?
No one ever said it was. Our species wouldn’t have come this far without it, and if we were to suddenly change things around (which, by the way, will never happen) we would stop ‘progressing’. We don’t want that now, do we?
Now go slave away please, and don’t forget the ketchup.
______________
The above is something I wrote a few weeks ago as part of work.
We’re all a bunch of big fat slaves, irrespective of waist size, and we know it. We are slaves to multinational companies who force their products down our throats. We are slaves to a global mass media whose lies we swallow whole. We are slaves to organised religion. We are slaves to our own egos. We are slaves to ourselves. And you know what the best part is? We enjoy every minute of it, yours truly included.
That’s right. We have become such a commodity-centric species that our very survival depends on mass consumption of poison, lies and delusions on a daily basis. Isn’t that just great?
And then there’s the fact that we are so morally bankrupt that we think it’s okay to steamroll our way to a predefined, elusive ‘success’, losing whatever that is left of our integrity along the way. We don’t even realise that, in our almost indecent hurry to get there, we have effectively eliminated any chance of freeing ourselves from this bondage, this shameless servitude that we have the audacity to call freedom.
No, I did not contradict myself there. How can you ‘free’ yourself from freedom itself, you ask? The answer is you can’t. Why? Because you’re a slave; a slave to a psycho-physical construct the little red horned guy on your left shoulder wants you to call freedom, freewill, independence, or what-have-you. You’re not free. You never will be. Don’t kid yourself. ‘Freedom’ itself has you on a leash, bound and gagged. And you like it that way.
Don’t get me wrong; this is not paranoia talking. Heck, it’s what I want. How can I be paranoid about something I know I want, nay need? That’s just tosh. And I’m not preaching either; far from it. Why would I want to be a killjoy?
Point is, no human being on this planet is truly free till he or she has given up his or her quest for freedom. We spend all our lives looking for it; much like the knights of yore who went in search for the mythical white stag; but, unfortunately, few of us will ever find it. Reason being this ‘freedom’ we so desperately crave is, in fact, just another commodity, to put it crudely.
Mere rhetoric? Hardly.
Think about it: you have so many obligations to fulfill, so many goals and expectations to live up to, so much to accomplish that you hardly have the time to do anything else. That is why you have become a slave to the system, as a means of escape.
The food you eat, the books you read, the music you listen to is all part and parcel of that system. And you, out of sheer helplessness (inadvertently of course) have labeled it freedom. In other words, you have paid for that ‘freedom’. Hence my argument that freedom as we know it is a commodity.
Is that a bad thing, though?
No one ever said it was. Our species wouldn’t have come this far without it, and if we were to suddenly change things around (which, by the way, will never happen) we would stop ‘progressing’. We don’t want that now, do we?
Now go slave away please, and don’t forget the ketchup.
______________
The above is something I wrote a few weeks ago as part of work.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Monday, December 7, 2009
Dear MR and SF
Hi, I don’t believe we’ve met. I am Papare Boy, a 25 year old citizen of the country that you both claim to love endlessly. I too love my country endlessly, though probably not the same way you do, but let’s not get into that right now.
So, I hear the two of you are running for President and I understand that one of you is already the hot favourite to win the race to the throne while the other is not too far behind, catching up slowly but surely. Good - democracy is not dead yet; not completely, anyway.
Before we go any further, let me tell you a few things about myself. I absolutely loathe politics. Getting into politics in this Paradise Isle, in my humble opinion, is like diving headfirst into a cesspit – if you ever get out alive, you’re going to smell like shit the rest of your life. Excuse my French.
I am no peacenik or NGO activist. Nor am I a chest-beating “patriot”. Although I have my reservations about the way you conducted the war (and believe me, I do), I am sincerely thankful for the two of you for putting an end to that three decade old curse. I suppose it was a necessary evil that was required for the greater good. This 65,000 square-kilometre land that all three of us call home is too small, and too precious, to be divided into pieces. So, I say kudos to the both of you on ensuring that our country’s territorial integrity remained intact, against heavy odds – even though it was achieved at a very high cost. My only question is: what next? We won the war, but what have we really done to win the peace? But I digress.
Now, you both have children around my age and I’m sure neither of you has forgotten the fact that young people make a sizeable portion of your potential vote banks, which brings me to the point of this letter – what have you two planned to do for the betterment of this country’s youth?
As young people of Sri Lanka we are in an unenviable position today. We have no one to guide us when it comes to matters of national importance. We vote for whoever our parents/relatives/peers vote for. An overwhelming majority of us are politically illiterate – including me, unfortunately. For instance, not many of us can say we know what the 17th amendment to the constitution is. Heck, most of us don’t even know if the print on the constitution’s cover is black on white or white on black. This speaks volumes about this country’s future voters. We’re unable to make educated political decisions, an attribute vital for the wellbeing of any democracy. And that is a frightening scenario as I’m sure you’ll agree, considering the pace at which the rest of the world is progressing.
Then there’s that little issue with the economy. There are many people my age without proper jobs. By proper jobs I don’t mean the traditional doctor/lawyer/engineer jobs; I mean the kind of jobs that they can actually enjoy doing as opposed to wasting away behind a desk. The jobs are there, but there isn’t enough government backing for such professions and there is little to no school-level encouragement for students to go for fields that are outside the accepted norm. Some are contemplating leaving the country in search of greener pastures, but I know for a fact that most of us would much rather stay here and give back to the country, as unbelievable as that may sound.
There are millions of other issues to be discussed of course, but I’m sure you’ve got a lot on your plates already. So, I shall stop my rambling now. Don’t get me wrong, though. I’m not blaming either of you for any of these problems. But as the next president of this great nation, one of you will have the power to address these issues and really make a difference. What with the end of the war, there is so much potential for us to go to very great heights and I’m sure both of you are equally capable of taking us there.
And with that, I shall take my leave with a bow.
Good luck to you both.
May the best man win.
Yours respectfully,
Papare Boy.
PS: Only one of you can win this race, and I’m sure I’m speaking for 20 million people when I ask you to respect the final result and work together with the victor to bring peace and development to this battered land. Thank you for hearing me out.
So, I hear the two of you are running for President and I understand that one of you is already the hot favourite to win the race to the throne while the other is not too far behind, catching up slowly but surely. Good - democracy is not dead yet; not completely, anyway.
Before we go any further, let me tell you a few things about myself. I absolutely loathe politics. Getting into politics in this Paradise Isle, in my humble opinion, is like diving headfirst into a cesspit – if you ever get out alive, you’re going to smell like shit the rest of your life. Excuse my French.
I am no peacenik or NGO activist. Nor am I a chest-beating “patriot”. Although I have my reservations about the way you conducted the war (and believe me, I do), I am sincerely thankful for the two of you for putting an end to that three decade old curse. I suppose it was a necessary evil that was required for the greater good. This 65,000 square-kilometre land that all three of us call home is too small, and too precious, to be divided into pieces. So, I say kudos to the both of you on ensuring that our country’s territorial integrity remained intact, against heavy odds – even though it was achieved at a very high cost. My only question is: what next? We won the war, but what have we really done to win the peace? But I digress.
Now, you both have children around my age and I’m sure neither of you has forgotten the fact that young people make a sizeable portion of your potential vote banks, which brings me to the point of this letter – what have you two planned to do for the betterment of this country’s youth?
As young people of Sri Lanka we are in an unenviable position today. We have no one to guide us when it comes to matters of national importance. We vote for whoever our parents/relatives/peers vote for. An overwhelming majority of us are politically illiterate – including me, unfortunately. For instance, not many of us can say we know what the 17th amendment to the constitution is. Heck, most of us don’t even know if the print on the constitution’s cover is black on white or white on black. This speaks volumes about this country’s future voters. We’re unable to make educated political decisions, an attribute vital for the wellbeing of any democracy. And that is a frightening scenario as I’m sure you’ll agree, considering the pace at which the rest of the world is progressing.
Then there’s that little issue with the economy. There are many people my age without proper jobs. By proper jobs I don’t mean the traditional doctor/lawyer/engineer jobs; I mean the kind of jobs that they can actually enjoy doing as opposed to wasting away behind a desk. The jobs are there, but there isn’t enough government backing for such professions and there is little to no school-level encouragement for students to go for fields that are outside the accepted norm. Some are contemplating leaving the country in search of greener pastures, but I know for a fact that most of us would much rather stay here and give back to the country, as unbelievable as that may sound.
There are millions of other issues to be discussed of course, but I’m sure you’ve got a lot on your plates already. So, I shall stop my rambling now. Don’t get me wrong, though. I’m not blaming either of you for any of these problems. But as the next president of this great nation, one of you will have the power to address these issues and really make a difference. What with the end of the war, there is so much potential for us to go to very great heights and I’m sure both of you are equally capable of taking us there.
And with that, I shall take my leave with a bow.
Good luck to you both.
May the best man win.
Yours respectfully,
Papare Boy.
PS: Only one of you can win this race, and I’m sure I’m speaking for 20 million people when I ask you to respect the final result and work together with the victor to bring peace and development to this battered land. Thank you for hearing me out.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Oh
Who goes there?
It is I.
What bringeth you here?
‘Tis of no concern to you, my love
Forgive me, I am but following orders
Follow your heart instead, beloved
I would if I could
I know
You must go back
Ah, but not without what I came for
What do you seek?
What you hide
It is not mine to be given at will
It is now
I cannot let you in
You will
Not now
Now
No
Yes
You shall not pass
I’m already in
Oh
It is I.
What bringeth you here?
‘Tis of no concern to you, my love
Forgive me, I am but following orders
Follow your heart instead, beloved
I would if I could
I know
You must go back
Ah, but not without what I came for
What do you seek?
What you hide
It is not mine to be given at will
It is now
I cannot let you in
You will
Not now
Now
No
Yes
You shall not pass
I’m already in
Oh
Friday, November 27, 2009
Letter to my 16-year-old self
Dear 16-year-old me,
How goes it?
Not too well, eh? Your O/Ls are coming up and you haven’t studied shit. Don’t bother starting now – you’re not going to remember anything; you know that. You’re one of those last-minute slackers who won’t be caught dead studying for an exam until you’re left with only three months to go Yes, you’re not going to touch your books till September; mark my words..
Don’t worry too much, though; you’re going to do just fine. The results won’t be anything spectacular; but at least they won’t make your aunts and uncles wanna disown you – that’s not going to happen for another four years (oops, have I said too much there?) Here’s a teaser: You’re getting ‘A’s for the subjects that matter (five of those) – go figure. But do take your studies a bit more seriously. I can’t tell you right now whether or not you’ll regret your current attitude towards academia and the usefulness of paper qualifications (or the lack of it). I honestly don’t know yet. But the ‘what-if-ness’ of it all is going to haunt you for some time to come. So, be warned.
Let’s talk about your nonexistent love life now. How’s that girl from Literature class you’ve been eyeing? Yeah, the really cute one. You’re going to ask her out a few months from now. Oh, yes, you are. And she’s going to tell you that she’s already seeing someone. Guess who that someone is? It’s that slimeball/douchebag/asshole who’s always sweet talking all the girls in class – including the 60-something teacher. But don’t worry; you’ll be over her in no time. And then you’ll move on to bigger and better things – literally (don’t ask). But she too is going to break your heart when you learn that she’s been in a serious relationship for several years. And guess what? Eight years later she’s still seeing that guy. You’re going to be happy for her.
We’re not done yet. Two years from now you’re going to fall for yet another girl from that same Lit. class. Don’t ask me who that is. Where’s the fun in that? But seriously, WTF, man? Three girls from the same frickin’ class? What is WRONG with you? Oh, W. T. F. stands for ‘what the fuck, by the way’. It’s… er… ‘netspeak. Never mind. You’ll learn these things soon enough. Anyway, this girl is going to confuse you a little. Not intentionally, though. She’s a complete sweetheart (despite the fact that she’ll be going out with one of your closest friends from school. Yes, yikes! I know). I’m meeting her and another old friend for lunch tomorrow. So, don’t worry. It’s all good. And, yes, you’re going to be over her too – and you’re going to remain friends. Isn’t that great?
You’re probably worried sick right now after reading this. My apologies. Don’t worry, dude. You’re not going to remain single for too long. You’ll find love in the strangest and most amazing places. Yes, plural. Just hang in there.
Be nice to your best friend. I know he seems like a dick at times, but he’s been your best friend since the first day of school and he really cares about you. A few years from now the two of you are going to have a major falling out. He’s going to stop talking to you for some time. It’s only going to be temporary but you WILL miss him a lot – even though you’ll never admit it.
That other old friend I mentioned… the one I’m meeting tomorrow together with your ex-crush… she’s going to be the reason for the fallout, through no fault of her own (you’ll be meeting her next year). She, you and your best friend are going to be really close. Really close. It’s going to be a beautiful (read cheesy) friendship that will last a long time… until another mutual friend from school starts dating her. This is going to piss your best friend off for some reason. He’s going to blame you for it and accuse you of siding with her when she gets tired of arguing with him. You’re going to get caught in the middle. To you, they’ll both be equally important, but life is never fair, and so things will naturally get ugly and that’ll be the end of that dream friendship. You’ll lose them both. But don’t feel too bad. Your best friend will come back, eventually. And you’ll mend fences with the other one, years later. Tomorrow’s meet up has aptly been titled the “Super-awkward-meet-up-2009” by her – wish me luck, by the way, I’m meeting her AND my ex-crush at the same time after a very long time. As for your best friend, he’s in Singapore now. I’m still in touch with him and we’re still good friends.
Anyway, I bet you’re feeling all dizzy and stuff now after hearing all these bizarre “predictions”. So I’m just gonna bugger off now and leave you dazed and confused – which was kinda what I had in mind when I decided to write to you. I’m masochistic like that. Sue me.
Okay….. Adios then!
Oh, wait… one piece of advice before I go: Don’t ever, I mean EVER get an internet connection. It’s going to destroy you.
Who am I kidding? We both know you’re not going to listen to me. Fuck it.
Bye!
Yours truly,
25-year-old me.
______________________________________
Excuse the disjointed, somewhat long-ass post. Kinda got carried away and I AM supposed to be at work after all. -_-
Anyway, thanks to Ladida a.k.a. Gutterflower for the tag. :)
I hereby tag Makuluwo, Chavie, Chathura and Nefarious. Take it away, guys. :)
How goes it?
Not too well, eh? Your O/Ls are coming up and you haven’t studied shit. Don’t bother starting now – you’re not going to remember anything; you know that. You’re one of those last-minute slackers who won’t be caught dead studying for an exam until you’re left with only three months to go Yes, you’re not going to touch your books till September; mark my words..
Don’t worry too much, though; you’re going to do just fine. The results won’t be anything spectacular; but at least they won’t make your aunts and uncles wanna disown you – that’s not going to happen for another four years (oops, have I said too much there?) Here’s a teaser: You’re getting ‘A’s for the subjects that matter (five of those) – go figure. But do take your studies a bit more seriously. I can’t tell you right now whether or not you’ll regret your current attitude towards academia and the usefulness of paper qualifications (or the lack of it). I honestly don’t know yet. But the ‘what-if-ness’ of it all is going to haunt you for some time to come. So, be warned.
Let’s talk about your nonexistent love life now. How’s that girl from Literature class you’ve been eyeing? Yeah, the really cute one. You’re going to ask her out a few months from now. Oh, yes, you are. And she’s going to tell you that she’s already seeing someone. Guess who that someone is? It’s that slimeball/douchebag/asshole who’s always sweet talking all the girls in class – including the 60-something teacher. But don’t worry; you’ll be over her in no time. And then you’ll move on to bigger and better things – literally (don’t ask). But she too is going to break your heart when you learn that she’s been in a serious relationship for several years. And guess what? Eight years later she’s still seeing that guy. You’re going to be happy for her.
We’re not done yet. Two years from now you’re going to fall for yet another girl from that same Lit. class. Don’t ask me who that is. Where’s the fun in that? But seriously, WTF, man? Three girls from the same frickin’ class? What is WRONG with you? Oh, W. T. F. stands for ‘what the fuck, by the way’. It’s… er… ‘netspeak. Never mind. You’ll learn these things soon enough. Anyway, this girl is going to confuse you a little. Not intentionally, though. She’s a complete sweetheart (despite the fact that she’ll be going out with one of your closest friends from school. Yes, yikes! I know). I’m meeting her and another old friend for lunch tomorrow. So, don’t worry. It’s all good. And, yes, you’re going to be over her too – and you’re going to remain friends. Isn’t that great?
You’re probably worried sick right now after reading this. My apologies. Don’t worry, dude. You’re not going to remain single for too long. You’ll find love in the strangest and most amazing places. Yes, plural. Just hang in there.
Be nice to your best friend. I know he seems like a dick at times, but he’s been your best friend since the first day of school and he really cares about you. A few years from now the two of you are going to have a major falling out. He’s going to stop talking to you for some time. It’s only going to be temporary but you WILL miss him a lot – even though you’ll never admit it.
That other old friend I mentioned… the one I’m meeting tomorrow together with your ex-crush… she’s going to be the reason for the fallout, through no fault of her own (you’ll be meeting her next year). She, you and your best friend are going to be really close. Really close. It’s going to be a beautiful (read cheesy) friendship that will last a long time… until another mutual friend from school starts dating her. This is going to piss your best friend off for some reason. He’s going to blame you for it and accuse you of siding with her when she gets tired of arguing with him. You’re going to get caught in the middle. To you, they’ll both be equally important, but life is never fair, and so things will naturally get ugly and that’ll be the end of that dream friendship. You’ll lose them both. But don’t feel too bad. Your best friend will come back, eventually. And you’ll mend fences with the other one, years later. Tomorrow’s meet up has aptly been titled the “Super-awkward-meet-up-2009” by her – wish me luck, by the way, I’m meeting her AND my ex-crush at the same time after a very long time. As for your best friend, he’s in Singapore now. I’m still in touch with him and we’re still good friends.
Anyway, I bet you’re feeling all dizzy and stuff now after hearing all these bizarre “predictions”. So I’m just gonna bugger off now and leave you dazed and confused – which was kinda what I had in mind when I decided to write to you. I’m masochistic like that. Sue me.
Okay….. Adios then!
Oh, wait… one piece of advice before I go: Don’t ever, I mean EVER get an internet connection. It’s going to destroy you.
Who am I kidding? We both know you’re not going to listen to me. Fuck it.
Bye!
Yours truly,
25-year-old me.
______________________________________
Excuse the disjointed, somewhat long-ass post. Kinda got carried away and I AM supposed to be at work after all. -_-
Anyway, thanks to Ladida a.k.a. Gutterflower for the tag. :)
I hereby tag Makuluwo, Chavie, Chathura and Nefarious. Take it away, guys. :)
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Work in progress
Peter "Gabriel" Abraham picked up his pace. He had no time to lose. It was starting to get dark around him. Clouds had gathered overhead and there was a sense of gloom in the air. A cat meowed in the distance and an old homeless man rummaging through a trashcan paused to have a look at him. The man considered the stranger for a moment and went back to his business, clearly uninterested. The wind was beginning to pick up speed and Peter had to adjust his hat more than once; but he kept on walking. He had less than an hour to complete his task.
He had barely walked ten paces down the alley when Peter found himself staring at the dead-end ahead. It was lit by a single Sodium lamp and the light was casting eerie shadows on the brick walls nearby. The sun appeared to have set. Or maybe it was her, thought Peter. He could see there was a figure moving impatiently in the shadows. Lucy had arrived.
“You’re late,” spat Lucy.
“I got held up,” said Peter nervously.
Lucy stepped closer to him and as the light hit her face Peter could tell she was trying hard to suppress her anger. Brow furrowed and jaws clenched, she had an air of someone ready to kill.
The Tracker gave Peter a piercing stare. Her cold, dark eyes seemed to bore into his, as if she was trying to read his every thought. It did nothing to improve his nerves.
“Where is it?” she demanded.
“Somewhere safe.”
“Somewhere safe? Somewhere safe? I thought I told you to bring it to me!”
“Well,” said Peter, still nervous but not giving in, “it’s safer where it is right now. In any case, I couldn’t have removed it even if I wanted to. He wouldn’t have let me.”
“Then you should’ve fought for it, fool,” snapped Lucy.
“I didn’t want to.”
There was a pause. Peter could hear the distant rumbling of thunder.
“Why ever not?” she asked curtly
“I… I’m no match for him.”
“You’re pathetic,” she spat again.
“I’m sorry,” said Peter, and he meant it.
“You’re sorry? No, Gabriel, you’re not sorry. Not yet, anyway.”
Peter looked at her.
“Kneel!” she commanded.
Peter did as he was told. He didn’t know what Lucy was about to do but he hoped and prayed she would be lenient with him. She took his hat and tossed it aside unceremoniously.
Peter watched as it rolled away into a nearby dent.
Lucy put her right hand on his head. Her long, sharp nail dug into his scalp and Peter let out a whimper of pain as she began to draw a line across it. He felt her finger move in the shape of a triangle. Blood started trickling down his hair and Peter watched, horrified, as a big drop of it fell from the tip of his nose to the ground with an audible thwack. His entire body was shaking.
“Get up,” she barked.
He had barely walked ten paces down the alley when Peter found himself staring at the dead-end ahead. It was lit by a single Sodium lamp and the light was casting eerie shadows on the brick walls nearby. The sun appeared to have set. Or maybe it was her, thought Peter. He could see there was a figure moving impatiently in the shadows. Lucy had arrived.
“You’re late,” spat Lucy.
“I got held up,” said Peter nervously.
Lucy stepped closer to him and as the light hit her face Peter could tell she was trying hard to suppress her anger. Brow furrowed and jaws clenched, she had an air of someone ready to kill.
The Tracker gave Peter a piercing stare. Her cold, dark eyes seemed to bore into his, as if she was trying to read his every thought. It did nothing to improve his nerves.
“Where is it?” she demanded.
“Somewhere safe.”
“Somewhere safe? Somewhere safe? I thought I told you to bring it to me!”
“Well,” said Peter, still nervous but not giving in, “it’s safer where it is right now. In any case, I couldn’t have removed it even if I wanted to. He wouldn’t have let me.”
“Then you should’ve fought for it, fool,” snapped Lucy.
“I didn’t want to.”
There was a pause. Peter could hear the distant rumbling of thunder.
“Why ever not?” she asked curtly
“I… I’m no match for him.”
“You’re pathetic,” she spat again.
“I’m sorry,” said Peter, and he meant it.
“You’re sorry? No, Gabriel, you’re not sorry. Not yet, anyway.”
Peter looked at her.
“Kneel!” she commanded.
Peter did as he was told. He didn’t know what Lucy was about to do but he hoped and prayed she would be lenient with him. She took his hat and tossed it aside unceremoniously.
Peter watched as it rolled away into a nearby dent.
Lucy put her right hand on his head. Her long, sharp nail dug into his scalp and Peter let out a whimper of pain as she began to draw a line across it. He felt her finger move in the shape of a triangle. Blood started trickling down his hair and Peter watched, horrified, as a big drop of it fell from the tip of his nose to the ground with an audible thwack. His entire body was shaking.
“Get up,” she barked.
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