The love of a cat. A letter of deception. And a trip to London. That was all it took to twist Zoran's life forever. But maybe after closing his heart to the world, this is exactly what he needed most to truly find redemption.
(updates Thursday & Sun...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"I saw you go in there, old man!" a raspy voice, as if belonging to a chain smoker, echoed from outside the confined space. "You've been there for like thirty minutes!"
The consecutive bumps on the door made Zoran uneasy, and he wasn't sure he was ready to go outside. He felt his heart racing and the baby hairs on his back standing up. His insides churned like milk with lemon ready to bubble up.
"I said to open this door right now!" repeated the same voice. "I'm pissing my pants out here!"
His chest pained him as he got up from where he was and the stench of piss and grime made him dizzy.
"I'll have no choice but to barge in there! You hear me?"
Zoran opened the door facing the woman about half as tall as him, with a yellow jacket and rainbow-colored rubber boots. She frowned at his appearance and sprinted to the toilet shutting the door behind.
As the image of her colorful attire lingered on in his thoughts, he smiled briefly, thinking of the similarity it held to his late wife.
"I repeat, all passengers please remain seated..." the announcement continued. "The train is expected to depart. All passengers please remain seated!"
He made his way along the corridor when suddenly the train jolted making Zoran lose his balance. And before he could grasp the idea of what was happening, he felt a wet and burning sensation on his abdomen, and a person bumping into him.
"What the-" said a boy, no older than fifteen. As he locked eyes with Zoran. His paper coffee cup spilled on the older man's clothes.
"Quickly, run!" pressed his friends, and they run past Zoran without any further word.
Zoran let out a series of indistinguishable cuss words as he reached out for a tissue in his pocked. He made his way back to his seat, and back to the fat man.
Three hours and a delay.
Three hours and no proper news of an arrival in London.
Three hours with the smell of piss, wet clothes and crying baby noises. Three hours of the fat man sleeping on both their seats. Three hours waisted.
"Bloody hell!" he cursed, trying to nudge the man with no success.
Zoran felt as if all the anger in the world bottled up inside him, and he didn't know how much longer he could keep it in without repercussions.
When the train had finally arrived in London, the rain had drowned all in its path. Mud clung onto the older man's boots and the stench of decay and filth tainted his senses.
As he gazed the busy streets Zoran didn't know what he hated more.
Himself?
Or all that was around him.
London was gloomy, like a wet graveyard on s Sunday. The rain poured down, flooding the streets and staining Zoran's clothes.
Soaked from head to toe, he stood out in the street as he waited for his boss to arrive, with only one thing hunting him.
His bag?
Wet, darkened by mud and filth.
His clothes?
Wet and dark too.
His thoughts were dark as well.
Zoran cussed out loud as he thought of all the wrongs that took place. The fat man. The loud baby. The teenagers who spilled coffee on him.
His wife.
People. He hated most of them. Not her.
But her absence hunted him, more than he could bring himself to admit.
What reason would there be left for him not to loathe everything that was and is?
Everything pissed him off. It ate at him like maggots crawling under his skin. People. The fetid stench of London. His thoughts.
'Oh! If only the boss would show up now!' he thought, clenching his teeth.
He stood there paralyzed as he thought of all the possible things he'd do. Soaked in grime, rain and sweat. Strangers bumped into him, and he tightened his fists as his blood boiled through miles of veins. His fists, clenched together, trembled as he dug his nails into his palms.
Zoran kicked his bag to the ground and stomped on it violently. He started pacing back and forth, ultimately bumping into a couple who was walking past him.
He attempted to swing a fist at the man, who was quickly dragged off by his woman.
"Drunkards..." she muttered, as they distanced themselves.
Zoran slapped himself multiple times as tears ran down his face. The buildings towered over him and Zoran was a bug. He was a bug with one thing on his mind.
Murder.
He would kill everyone, and then himself.
"Zoran?" his boss's voice interrupted his trail of thought, and he turned around to look at her. "Are you alright?"
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
