The place had no soul or spirit left, and it was evident in the colourless walls, the unclean glasses, the empty eyes of the server who left me a menu card.
I’d never felt sadder at the prospect of not being a part of someone else’s story.
The infallible whiteness of the walls, the omnipresent smell of disinfectants, and the fields of artificial grass come back to me. Swimming before me are visions of smiling children and the legions of overworked childcare professionals constantly at their service. Every blink threatens to permanently relocate me to their world of ceaseless laughter.
It’s God’s funny way of reminding me that all that is received is a gift that is broken.
A song that never ended, the music became so familiar that my ears yearned to hear it every night before going to sleep.
When we dream of reality on yet unnamed moons Do our dreams become just as untrue?
We live in a world in which we are born with a timer engraved on our wrist. A countdown to the exact moment a person meets his/her soulmate.
