3 o'clock in the evening, a man hurriedly walks along a passage between the shops, along the pathway and into the street. Soon the street was crowded with no trace of any one particular person. Afterall, the street wasn't meant to sustain legacies.
But this man, he lingered in my mind as though I had just recorded history; my history. Never before had I seen him.His steps were hurried, unsteady yet objective, the red shirt and white trousers he wore could make do for a flag; it flew as the wind dictated, his shoes were a clear indication of the scotching sun and dusty weather. His face...his eyes were the most calm, inviting, tender and jolly; such a great contrast from my expectations. This was what kept me mentally stuck on his image, what kind of a man is this? who is he? C'mon Bee, what is wrong with me? Why the hell is this man so in my mind? Psst! there is nothing about him worth pondering on anyway?...On and on my mind went.
"Hey," my colleague called, "you are going to bring losses to this business. Gotta keep watch for the customers not the fantasies." I was selling at a local groceries shop to raise money for my tuition. With economic instability and rising cost of living, I couldn't rely on my parents for all-and-nothing. I mean, they just had a duty to be fruitfull and fill the earth, my job was to figure out my way through the life-street to the grave. But this man...
After 3 years.The money I had saved up from my salary at the shop was enough to get me through college. What a joy!! I travelled 10 miles home, took a week packing and finally I was set for schooling; give it my best, make a life, live the life and have my happy ever after.
I am 3 years old in college. Today, I am just from my favorite lecture in which I couldn't concentrate. I am so sad about something that I can't quite point out. So I drag my feet to the nearest bench and slump onto it. My head feels hazy, my feet are heavy, my body feels detached from myself, I'm hungry...
I gather the last energy resorts I have so I can try and manage this unexplainable situation am in. So I look up, maybe I'll see a friend and call for help, how I hope my best of friends is somewhere around looking for me too. I hope I won't pass out any soon. I raise my now lidded eyes and here he is reaching out to me, for me. It is him, that man, the man I saw at the shop, followed him with my eyes through the pathway and into the streets. It is him reaching out to me and, I hope, to my life too. I feel all weak, maybe I will be out soon but I can tell that I am being carried in hurried, unsteady yet objective steps. I see hope. That man...
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