It was the stroke of midday. Wilson and Zachary, two very special friends, were having their casual outting. Wilson, whose spectacles reflected the sunlight, had a throbbing head ever since this morning he woke up.
“Okay, try to guess what number I’m thinking,” Zachary snapped, walking in ease with his hands in his pockets.
His head, now was a beating drum, started to give a piercing pain. He moaned softly and touched his temple. Sound waves were going in and out from his head, vibrating.
“Four?” he said.
“Beginner’s luck!” Zachary cried. “Now guess what I’m fantasizing.”
Another round of pain came by. Images of Zachary winning a hot-dog eating contest flashed. More flashing images appeared of Zachary’s stomach jutting out, his mouth dripping with mustard and ketchup; his elastic headband around his head. Wilson let a howl of laughter eventhough he was under the weather he’d assume.
“A very sloppy one, mate,” Wilson said in between laughs.
“I didn’t know you could read minds!” Zachary said, flailing his hands in the air. For a minute he believed him. Wilson formed a weak smile. As they continued to walk down the street, a lady walked passed them, “Celery...tomatoes....”
“Did you hear that?”
“What?” Zachary’s brows furrowed.
“But....” he muttered, pointing at the the lady behind his back who he heard reciting her grocery list.
Finally, they arrived at a junction with people waiting at the traffic lights. Soon, muttering thoughts started piling into his head. He trembled down towards the ground, groaning loudly. Sound waves were going in and out rapidly.
“This ‘gift’ is going way out of hand,” Zachary knelt down, giving Wilson a boost.
“I don’t know whether if this is a ‘gift’. This is not fun! It’s mortifying! I don’t want this anymore!”
After, his head became a serene chamber once again.
(305* words)
*supposedly to be 309. It's not accurate and all. Sorry!