joeall man

Omens

“David! Watch your language!”

“Dad! You saw it too!”

“Don’t worry about it.” He said.

“It flew through a solid glass window like it wasn’t even there, and you guys
are acting like this?!”

My brother Jeff opened the kitchen window, and let the bird fly out. “It’s a
blue bird, and not a black bird, so it isn’t bad luck.” He said, as he tried to reassure
me. I ran around the house to check all the windows, to make sure I wasn’t seeing
things. They were all closed. The bird came in through the sky light, and nowhere
else. I was going mad. I knew what I saw, and my Dad saw it with me. I went back
to Boston the next day, feeling disturbed. I walked into my apartment, and on the
floor, was the drawing pad. It fell out of the bookcase, but no one was there.

“How did this get out here?” I mumbled as I walked to it. I picked up the pad,
and opened it. It opened right to the picture. I tore the picture out, and looked at it
again. I contemplated throwing it out, but the voice inside said not to. Then, it took
over me, and I rolled it up, and went to a framing shop. I had the picture framed in
a dark, exquisitely carved, wooden frame. I put the picture back on the shelf, and
looked at it.

“Impossible.” I said. Little did I know, the door that I closed inside of me, had
been blown wide open by the bird’s entry. Everyday, for the next few months, I
looked at the picture. It became a curse to me. It was a window to a possibility that
I refused to consider. It was a window which destroyed the foundations that I built
my world out of, a world where everything happened logically.

In April, the club had a party and she was there. Mistrani, I, and my roommate
went, and we watched a B Kung Fu movie for entertainment. Afterwards, my
instructor, who observed Kendra and I in practice, “volunteered” me to walk her
back to the campus. We walked and had a light conversation. I didn’t mention the
picture, since I wanted Mistrani to confirm if there was or wasn’t a match. Kendra
had her glasses on, and I learned that she was a biology major. Also, she was
interested in Buddhism, and a lover of animals. I saw her try to woo our friend’s
pet rabbit. The next day, Mistrani came over to look at the picture. I put my glasses
over the eyes.

“Holy schmoly.” He said in awe.

“Please no,” I replied.

“I’m sorry. No, I’m not kidding you, man. The drawing matches her.”

In May, I saw Kendra one more time. I was getting tired of being aggravated   

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