Broken


There’s something about funerals. How funereal and sombre they are, the end of a life (not) lived, the beginning of the reality of one’s life, and for the loved ones whose times they still await, it’s a period of perpetual disillusionment before they find there sanity again.

Graves

Death.

Cruel blessing, I like to believe.


 

Her head, draped neatly in an African embroidered scarf, embellished with beads of patriotism; droops lazily as we peered over the horizon of the Kenyan skies at the rooftop.

This world, Latifa, it’s so broken.

But I know too well.

Only I wish I didn’t understand, that I wouldn’t have to travel to galaxies and universes it has finally dawned I will never even reach. Then we could beguile ourselves with utter pleasantries, small talk and the filtered selfies.

Happiness?

Blissful ignorance .

 

READ MORE AT FAVOURITE STRANGER

Related Posts

Leave a Comment

CommentLuv badge

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Recent Posts
Hajj Activity Book for Little Kids 1How to keep your blog alive when not blogging