Their Heaven lay in front of them, at the edge of my world. They saw and ran for it simultaneously. As if their life depended on it. Who doesn’t want a piece of the Heaven anyway? The thin ran faster and the thinner slower. The thinner was small and the thin smaller.
While they ran, the Gods watched amused.
The climb was steep. So they both clambered, fell down and tried again. The amorphous path to the nectar of life that lay on top kept caving in, bringing down the two desperate contestants; the two luckiest dwellers of earth at that moment.
When they finally reached where it lay, they rummaged through it, delighted, desperate and disappointed, all at the same time. The brown dog and the brown girl put their faces into the municipality garbage heap, where from a torn polythene, a stinky yellow dal flowed out. The Gods, after watching for a while, moved back into the restaurant kitchen.
Their mouths touched the other’s. Their legs pushed the other’s. Their faces were smeared, the tongue licked itself, but their hearts were still discontent.
I wish I hadn’t watched. I quickly retreated into the safety of my world, shut the car door and rolled up the windows. But it was too late. The stink had entered inside, and was killing me. I came back dead from that Heaven where a struggle for life raged.
The title doesn’t matter. But if you must know, read it backwards.