rainy day

it was a lovely morning. birds chirpin; trees swaying gently in the breeze of dawn. however, towards noon i sensed an ominous presence coming ever so closer; a depraved being that will not stop till all grounded things are marked by its acidic touch.

the evil qumulonimboos has arrived.

i did not sense danger then, as the creature sprayed its wrath upon the land. it was only when an annoying buzzing sound sent alarms ringing in my head. i picked up the apartment intercom receiver.

“hello, sir.”
“yes?”
“your car is parked at the wrong place.”

the cruel (but awfully stupid) security guard’s sentence sent a shiver down my spine. i was expecting this, but not so soon.

“which car?”
“uhh.. let me check.”

he starts asking his alien friends in his blubbering native language.

“the red kancil, sir.”
“and who reported this?”
“the owner.”

now that was the last straw. was the Nice Neighborly Treatly not signed moons ago? it was shocking, but i calmed myself to find more truths within his claim.

“are you SURE?”
“uhh, no it was the management staff.”

figures. the enigmatic building manager and his cronies are behind this. they’ve been ruling colony Prima 16 with an iron fist, handed down from a legacy of idiotic leaders. the squabbling factions within the senate of residents didn’t help either. their eternal bickering only led to more legislation which lacked sense, common or other.

“whatever.”

i hung up. “this is stupid”, i thought. they didn’t mind my blue vessel, bearing the Neighborly Seal of Peace, to reside within our neighbor’s domain. yet these nepalese bastids and their puppeteers are immediately at arms when my red or silver shuttles make a short stop at its port of call. really, these pests stop short at nothing to ruin a relationship between two peaceful neighbors.

i feared the ruin of this colony is just beginning. no, it has always been in motion. only now it reveals the true horror of its intentions.

later, when returning from a round trip to the Sri Hartamas constellation, i was stopped at the entry checkpoint into the colony. it was then that i knew how deeply rooted qumulonimboos’ influence was among us.

“sir, you cannot park somewhere else. you must park at your own place.”

god, don’t these guys know when to stop?

“what’s your problem? the owner let us park there. why is the management so kaypoh?”

“sir, you cannot park somewhere else. you must park at your own place.”

“can’t you LISTEN to what i’m saying? see this sticker here? it plainly states that i am to park at that owner’s lot!”

“this car, yes. other cars, no.”

i groaned loudly. my mind was just teeming with cuss words that i just wanted to throw into that dark face. but for now, the situation requires finesse and more importantly, composure. who knows what the dictators will do if i erupted now.

for the moment, i just want to get away from that sick blue uniform.

“fine.”

without a further glance, i lurched the vehicle forward in what seemed like some form of rebellion. thrusters ablaze with fury, i took the vessel down into the depths of this illusion called home.