Under My Skin(Ongoing...)

Chapter one

The dark blue sky lower the setting sun which send it's final rays for the day. The cirrus clouds slide across the sky, in the direction of the wind. Towers of different heights,tall, medium and short, switch on the lights that emanate from the numerous windows. Car horns blare on the streets and yellow taxis are hailed to stop from the busy road during the evening rush hour

I watch all this from the tall glass window. My colleagues are checking out, passing my office and leaving to the various homes or wherever they're going. The noise and voices in the office are slowly dimming down,just like the setting sun. Though I see the bustling street outside, I also see my reflection on the glass pane staring back at me. I stare at it, expecting it to talk to me as I've seen in other films, but it just looks back at me, not moving a single inch.

I sigh heavily and turned my wrist to look at the time on my golden wrist watch. It's a quarter to seven. I turn and walk towards my desk, the room echoing the clanking of my bottom heels. I shut my laptop, grab my handbag and coat and leave the office.

The corridor is cold and empty, no person in sight. I push the elevator up bottom and seconds later the doors to the elevator slide open. I get out of the elevator once it reaches the ground floor. I smile and wave at Suzy, the office secretary, sitting behind the reception desk. She does so too with a huge grin on her face and goes back to her monitor.

Pushing the glass revolver door, the cold evening breeze slaps my face and makes me tighten my coat and raise its collar to the neck. I regret why my car broke down and had to leave it at the mechanic's. I take one last look at the building, "MALCOM HENZY COMPANY"  engraved in bold letters, and then walk on.

Nightfall already draws in and the streets look like it is lighted by a thousand stars. Passers by are either alone, two or even three, talking or either walking ahead without a care. A young lad plays a saxophone outside a shop and people throw coins and notes on his case as they walk, while others stand watching him play beautifully.

I hail a taxi that is approaching me. I'm to meet up with Samantha, my bosom friend and colleague, right before she got married and expectations with a child. As I sit in the driving taxi, I think about my life. Here I am, twenty-seven years of age, not in any relationship of any sort yet my best friend already six months pregnant and happily married. I'd promised myself not to get into any relationship, and neither do I want a family. Actually, I smile, I like keeping to myself, being my own company.

The taxi then stops at Dorwin street. I pay the fare and alight the car. A maroon painted Victorian house stands ahead of me,its porch lights on and bright. Samantha is home, I say, where else could she be? I press the electric door bell next to the door and grip on my handbag strap.

The door flings open and the light in the room shines on me. A brunette lady stands at the door with a smile so wide that the corners of her mouth seems to reach her ears, " Nalla! " she beams, "it's about time you showed up. Come on in, "she leads me inside the house.

I hang my coat on the coat hanger and studied my friend. Samantha Levy, now Samantha Gonzales, had trimmed her previously long straight brunette hair to shoulder length that smoothly curls at its ends. She's dressed in a long sleeveless red and white floral printed maternity dress and her round tummy bulges out from it. I rest on the creamy sofa adjacent to a fireplace that crackles of its fire from the wood.  On the shelves and the walls are photos of Samantha and her husband. I spot one of Samantha and I during our graduation in college and another when we were at a beach vacation. The television is tuned to a channel showing a programme "mother& child" and on it are four women, probably mothers in discussion. I remove my red bottom heels and rub my manicured red nail-polished feet on the grey woolen carpet.