Life Is a Journey

Vroom vroom! The car stops to a halt. Ooh! Dad’s home carrying him varieties of groceries. Broom Broom! I sweep my room, Collecting trash using a dustpan. Alas! The place is clean. Vroom! The driver sped, Crash! The boy was run over. Blood gutted out of his throat as he bled to death, helpless, while the heartless hooligan sped off to a neck breaking speed. All that remains is the indelible mark, now a blackspot as well as a death spot. Vroom vroom! The mechanic tries the engine, So old it is after it is drained its oil, after the previous race. Tick tok as the team tries to reinstate it back to its performance so as to win the piston cup that he so craves it like the next breath. Vroom vroom! The motorcycle halts. The cyclist drops off a passenger at the crucial destination. The latter, who is also a taxpayer, makes her way into the compound regarded a religious ground. After six days of toiling the Sabbath is sure the best day for her to give thanks to god after a tough week.