Portia de Rossi – Exercise

Portia stood outside her apartment and stared at the sky. The heavens had split in two. The part to her left had turned red. Dark stormy clouds covered a large bit of the blooded sky. To the right of her, the sky appeared to have no consciousness that the world was living out its final hours. She put her Peter Stevenson cigarette to her lips and inhaled a big satisfying gulp of polluted air then dropped the bud to the ground and pressed her brown lace up boots over it. Releasing the smoke from her lungs she breathed out a sigh of relief. It was over!

The masses were anxiously scurrying the streets in the hope of accomplishing something of importance. Other’s wiser, were trying to get to a place or people of solace. To Portia, it didn’t seem that different to any other day. Everyone trying to get something done that seemed so damn important.

She spotted him from a distance. There were huge tree’s planted on every traffic light in the area. It was to try and give a greener living experience to the neighbourhood. It did blend in with all the old buildings here but it unnerved her that these ancient slow tree’s lived in her past paced life. He emerged from one of the old tree’s, she thought that he maybe was part of the tree as his clothes were different shades of dirty green and his dreadlocked hair streamed over his clothes like branches. His skin was an ashen dark brown. She couldn’t help but stare at him as he strolled closer to her. She held his gaze and to her surprise, he came to a stop in front of her.

“Are you lost?” She asked.

“I couldn’t help noticing you standing over here.”

“Do I stand out?”

“You look as if you couldn’t care less about how you want to spend your last few moments.”

“It’s not the case. I care very much how I would like to spend my time. It’s just weird planning out a day when you don’t have anything to achieve after that day.”

“So you don’t usually do anything just for the joy of it?”

“I play with my horses. But I couldn’t possibly go horse riding today. It would be a waste. Imagine…your last day on earth and all you manage to do is ride on horses. I wouldn’t want to be remembered like that.”

 

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