| Written: October 22, 2004 The ink that stained my hand glared in the basking sun as I cautiously approached my car. Slowly reaching for the handle of the car door, the words etched onto my hand caught my eye. At this moment, I let out a sigh and pulled the handle and found myself inside my car. My mind was completely blank. The way of functioning this machine had left me as the ink had fell upon my skin. I had no idea why it had been such an important event for me, but it had drove me the edge, and quite possibly into the cliff that would mostly likely be filled with creatures unknown. My hands wrapped around the steering wheel, as my fingers tightly wrapped around it so. Yet again, I found my eyes wondering and of course, setting on the sight of my hand and the newly acquired temporary tattoo. I admired it for a minute, I have to admit. I wasn�t sure what was so important about the written words. Well, perhaps it had to do with the selected numbers as well. These numbers (seven digits of course) and name reflected into my eyes. I felt weird by the whole incident in general, but as I see it, my thoughts and this number contradicted each other. My thoughts always telling me what I had always seen in my head: no one truly loved me. Now these thoughts were cornered by the number scratched on my hand, sheepishly enticing me with the idea that it was quite possible someone could actually care about me, even if it was only the slightest bit. As I finally got my mind out of this endless gutter and it returned to a somewhat normal state, I had to glance at my hand for one last time, and with this, a smile slowly grew upon my face. It had escaped from it�s cage that was held deep within my soul, and at this moment, I truly believed it could be possible for someone to like me. |
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