|
| |
Flicker
.
.
.
.
They heard the movement every morning,
No one knew what it was.
So, it was called 'a shadow'.
It sounded like someone passing by,
But the sounds that were heard were strange.
They weren't the usual footsteps.
With time, they got used to only feeling it.
Each morning, they knew when it was time they heard the dragged sounds.
With backs turned to the sounds,
And the tall fence right in the middle,
None of them knew what made that sound.
Some assumptions were made at first before they just let it be.
The day ended early on a Tuesday; the following week.
Then came the end of Thursday,
The end of Friday came, and it struck!
They hadn't heard the dragged sounds for some days.
One person mentioned it and others went 'Ahh' 'Oh':
'Maybe they stopped coming'
'Maybe they travelled'
'Maybe they changed routes'....
But the shadow didn't change routes.
His gait improved.
The sounds they heard were of him working hard to be better.
He still went by that route.
.
.
And soon the sound they had gotten used to became a memory.
But the shadow never left...
Copyright ©
Tolulope Onayemi
|
|