“Pleased to meet you. Hope you guessed my name.”

Today’s seminar started 20 minutes later than the estimated time 1400, just as usual in a culture where time walks with different pace. People started to flow in, and in the flow there was a guy of bun hair with a stripped guitar. He slid in one of the chairs prepared in the salon, putting his guitar lean on the very chair. I was on the last row in the salon where one can observe everyone else from their back. That guy of bun hair sat right left seat of mine. We exchanged a eye greeting for an instance. His dark brown eyes were glowing.

Every first session of this kind of seminars makes me nervous somehow, since everyone gets a short moment to present themselves in front of everyone, mostly in seat, but still the indifferent eyes gazing at me at the moment of me speaking out makes me uncomfortable. Most of the attendees were already intrigued by the attendance of that bun hair guy. His hipster beard got the attention of all others, which quite was unsuited for a seminar of policy planning of the Ministry of Finance.

At one moment, I thought that he was here to give a mean impression to the one who was given to speech.

When the turn of self-presentation was tossed upon his lap, he slightly emitted a soundless laughter. Still I could hear his laughter imagining how his lips were moving. He grabbed the resting guitar and babysat her on his torso. One could tell that he have experiences. He gently kneaded her hair, adjusted his voice and sang:

Please allow me to introduce myself
I’m a man of wealth and taste
I’ve been around for a long, long year
Stole many a man’s mind to exhaust

And I was around when the brightest mind
had his moment of sleepless and disgust
Made damn sure that pupils
looked away from his stained teeth

Pleased to meet you
Hope you guessed my name
But what’s hampering you
is the nature of my after game

I watched with glee
while States and Colonies
fought for modern decades
for the god they made

I shout out,
Who killed these kidneys?
When after all
It was you and me

Just as every cop is a criminal
And all the sinners saints
As heads is tails
Just call me lunatic
Cause I’m in need of some restraint

So if you meet me
Have some courtesy
Have some sympathy, and some taste
Use all your well-learned politesse
Or I’ll lay your mind to exhaust

Pleased to meet you
Hope you guessed my name
Tell me, what’s my name
I tell you one time, you’re to blame

As he was singing, I felt something spiked up in my stomach toward my head. I could see clear and listen details. He was way up temperature to be touched, then he became warm person until to have cold attitude. I grabbed his shoulder even before he’d finish the last lines of the song.

I put my lips on the border. I swallowed him at once. I didn’t even have to bite him to chew.

He disappeared with his guitar left behind. But even so, no one seemed to care. Not even one glanced. Since the turn was lost, it was tossed to me for I was the guy sat right next to him. His song was shut up by my carnivorous action, but rather was sang louder inside my skull and stomach. He was of acid taste. Yes, as he sang he had the taste. And yes, he did have taste of modern fashion and interaction. He suits well with many diversities; not only with milky white, but also with vanilla yellow, cinnamon brown or chocolate black. Among all those, I was the one whose lips touched his border. His dark shoulders were to be smashed. I felt the eyes looking at me waiting me to present myself to them. I could give them what they want to feed, but instead I spit out the acidness that was staying in my lubricated saliva.

After half an hour, I glanced down to the seat where the bun hair guy was sitting. For scraping lots of freshness of his blood, something stayed deep as strain as always. At the very bottom of where I was tossing my looking, I still could find the evidence. But no one dared to speak out loud of his name that he sang.

The madam of the Ministry realised something that thundered her mind, then announced a short break of 10 minutes commemorating his death and revival. She spoke his name. I knew that after this 10 minutes of break, there would be another guy entering with a prepared song, and I’d kill him just as I did earlier to the first one with bun hair.

 

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