There stood on the corner of the packed street, a man in a pale xanthic shirt. Nobody knew his name, only what he sold. Bright toys of majestic red and deep ochre depicting tales of folklore and myths that feuled children’s imaginations. Nobody knew his name, but everyone knew him as The Dream Maker. Advertisements
I glided effortlessly through the breeze, reminiscent of a warm knife through butter. Birds, the closest creatures in my vicinity, sighed at the sight of my lone self, conversing among themselves with sounds drenched with pity, little did they know that I did not need companions, I had found solace with the wind.
The dying light of the Sun warmed the Earth; setting the stage for the wind to rustle the leaves, teasing them with every flicker. The clouds coupled with the withering rays drew an eloquent masterpiece of colours on the evening sky. Birds retired into their snug nests. The thundering traffic hindered the picturesque setting but […]
The timely visitor came and appropriated flowers and debris, depositing more of the same on its travails. The visitor brushed up against the smooth steps and receded; whilst maintaining its lithe form. The periodic visitor brought change and carried away memories…
Life. It is a race. It is a gruelling journey to be your best self. Do not hate the race, endure it. Compete; not against others, but against yourself. Life will hurt, but when in pain, keep going, you are already hurt; get a reward from it.