The equator it is, where I lie sprawled,
stuffing myself with freshly plucked plums from the garden that lies in the other half of the planet.
I must leave some for the days to come,
The territory has been seized, we don’t have access to those trees anymore.
The trees that we planted on Family Day.
Now what should I do if I want to scratch the lower half of my right shoulder?
The right hand won’t reach that spot, the left ain’t allowed.
That would be crossing the border.
Let us wither, crawl and suffer, and slyly shift toward the other side, where the laft hand lies.
Ouch… a dagger pierces through my right shoulder,
And a voice, “That should ease your pain.”
“Your shoulder, right hipbone and the longest toe on your right foot belongs to me..”
Oh hell! Should’ve thought of a better position to laze around..
Who knew all hell would break lose while I sat pigging in front of the TV?
And why are we watching tele shopping brands again?
Oh, ofcourse, the remote lies on the sofa on my right,
Pinned to the equator I lie still
Finishing the last of the plums.
Natascha Shah is the Editor of http://tlfmagazine.com/ . Having graduated from the University of New South Wales, Sydney with a degree in Literature and Journalism, she worked as a journalist for four years and then felt the need for unrestricted creativity beyond formulaic writing. Thus TLF was conceived. And yes, she believes, every moment in life is worth tripping on.