The other pages are a bit envious
of how the Page 42 bears that unique number
(Slyly dismissing the fact that their own numbers are unique after all)
They stand fascinated, reluctantly reciting an important prophecy
about how great the Page 42 will be –
“It will change the course of the book”, they say
“It will turn the track of the story
It will be the one that brings all the glory!”
The concerned page, on the other hand,
Lays tired and sleepy
And mostly a bit too indolent.
Who is he?
Just a page carrying an ordinary number, with an extraordinary expectation
If he indeed feels the weight of a book on his shoulders
He clearly doesn’t show,
And if the words tattooed on him are indeed that important,
He clearly doesn’t know.
He casually dismisses the surrounding air of envy
Pfft! How stupid can pages be!
Stuffing his fame under the sole of his shoes
Ignoring the salt of expectations stinging his already infected bruise
He packs his bag for a place where there are no promises to keep,
Putting back the blanket over his head, he snores back to sleep.