Escalator, a Short Prose

Observations, from the “outside”, translated…

The escalator in the MRT Station stopped working and all they could do, was to use the stairs.

“I can’t go any farther, my legs are so sore, let’s go on the elevator, okay?”, she’d started hollering out in pain behind him, he’d felt annoyed, and stopped, to look back at her.

look like a short ride, doesn’t it???  Not my photo…

“Just a few steps, you don’t even get nearly as tired, shopping, don’t act so weak!”

“I’m weak? Don’t you see that I’m carrying bags? All the other men would help their girlfriends carry the shopping bags, what, can you do, huh!”

And, the two of them started arguing on the stairs.

They couldn’t even manage this short passage, how can they possibly walk together for life? As I’d passed them by, from finalizing my divorce, I couldn’t help, but think to myself.

And so, this, is from an observer’s standpoint, and maybe, s/he felt that way, because s/he’d already, weathered through the bigger storms of her/his own marriage, and got a divorce, and yet, maybe, it’s just the woman’s wanting her boyfriend to spoil her a bit, and yet, marriages can’t rely on this sort of an interaction, if you want to last, for the long run.


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