I closed the door behind me and started crossing the small corridor.
The bathroom door was shut, probably occupied but I couldn't tell, the silence was absolute. And throughout my passage between cars, I couldn't help but think about my problems at home. In a weird and unexpected way, I found myself pondering about what had troubled and even angered me.
The problem was, as I looked back, I found out I couldn't manage to get angry at them... the anger I was feeling came from inside, directed at myself. It surprised me at first... and then it made sense, like pieces of a puzzle I had yet to put together now suddenly fit.
The continued argument, if you could call it that because of all the screaming, had gone on for a very long time... and I let it. I just stood by, hearing them out, together and separately, since both used me for support.
One may start with good intentions, but if one stays in the cross-fire for too long, shots will eventually pierce and damage you, even without one's knowledge.
The anger subsided by the time I had reached the bar's door, and I promised myself, never to get caught or used in a cross-fire again. Helping someone is commendable, and good for the spirit, but not at the cost of one's own sanity and well-being. If I am not well, how can I be of any help to others in need?
The weight I had been carrying inside me seemed to lighten its load as I opened the door and readied my senses to face the smoke from all those cigars, but as the door slid open, the bar was made visible and I couldn't see the previous businessmen anywhere. Aside from the employees, only the hoods and the elder woman were present.
The bathroom door was shut, probably occupied but I couldn't tell, the silence was absolute. And throughout my passage between cars, I couldn't help but think about my problems at home. In a weird and unexpected way, I found myself pondering about what had troubled and even angered me.
The problem was, as I looked back, I found out I couldn't manage to get angry at them... the anger I was feeling came from inside, directed at myself. It surprised me at first... and then it made sense, like pieces of a puzzle I had yet to put together now suddenly fit.
The continued argument, if you could call it that because of all the screaming, had gone on for a very long time... and I let it. I just stood by, hearing them out, together and separately, since both used me for support.
One may start with good intentions, but if one stays in the cross-fire for too long, shots will eventually pierce and damage you, even without one's knowledge.
The anger subsided by the time I had reached the bar's door, and I promised myself, never to get caught or used in a cross-fire again. Helping someone is commendable, and good for the spirit, but not at the cost of one's own sanity and well-being. If I am not well, how can I be of any help to others in need?
The weight I had been carrying inside me seemed to lighten its load as I opened the door and readied my senses to face the smoke from all those cigars, but as the door slid open, the bar was made visible and I couldn't see the previous businessmen anywhere. Aside from the employees, only the hoods and the elder woman were present.
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