Every single time Rad heard the school bell , a strange sensation would whizz past hi mind . But fortunately for Rad he was rather blissfully unaware of the "CONDITION" that haunted him.
Rad was synesthetic , one of those extremely radically covert kind of diseases that one rarely hears about. Rad had the confusion of senses , he would arbitrarily amalgamate sounds ands smells.
It was a day like every other but different. There could have been a sense of urgency in the air had any action had taken place that day , but with so much less action one could not really capture essence of the urgency. Everyone seemed to be normal except Rad as he smelt Burnt olives for the fifth time as everyone else went running away to their homes.
The last lecture seemed to linger just out of hi reach , making its appearance and never sinking deep enough into the subtle body to be noticed. He had read about aliens , but the documentary that Mr.Hookermen , their science teacher , had conveniently planned that day made his outlook towards Aliens radically different.
As Rad was still recovering from the horrible olive smell , thousands of miles above him , a sleek automobile , beyond human perception , had been set to its highest throttle and was in effect racing towards the ever so busy lives of innocent naive mortals with their cliche theories of extraterrestrial intelligence. Well , they would make sure that was about to change for good.
The sun still emanated the ever so powerful rays with impending strength and setting all things mundane ablaze with life , but it was still calm.
Rad could not help but cogitate over the strange sulphurous smell that kept haunting him all the way , even when he reached. Rad had never, in his short , not fully completed life , fallen prey to such a disastrous experience . The justification of its disastrous nature is beyond fathomable limits of the fragile human mind.The smell was growing , what might have been called sharper , but everyone else seemed to remain expediently unaware of the whole crisis.
Why is it that in every single stretch of the clouded miseries of time , people never give thought to such trivial matters ? Why is that the fate of the world is always conveniently made into the possession of young men ? And why i that all stories revolve around a hero.
If u think this questions are worth being answered wait for my next post................
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