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Anecdote: heaven or hell?
Copyright @ebonygirl
We never know which word, action, glance or even thoughts can impact on someone.
Life brings to us an assortment of tiny mini tales. Some we cherish, others we bury in a corner. And weirdly enough, if we are aware, these anecdotes act as torch bearers when our heart is ebbed. When least expected, a word said with love and concern, can be the cure to someone's wounds.
Everything was tranquil: neither people nor the wind. Despite, the early hours the sun was already so warm. The heated sun, the laden briny smell of the slimy green rich sea and the cloudless sky were telling the state of my mind. My watery eyes reflected my hungry and relentless mind: thirsty for answers and reckless with the endless thoughts and emotions englobing me. I was nothing but a parched mind waiting to be filled.
That sultry warm summer, with its uncomfortable temperature, did nothing but added to the torture I was going thru. My mind and heart ruffled, wanting to fly to an unknown exotic place where nothing except bliss is inherent . Long subdued emotions found their way on my cheeks. I closed my eyes, feeling the mounting pain.
No sooner that they were closed, that a soft gentle breeze kissed me, sending a chill down my spine. I could no longer feel the scorching sun on my bare neck; the leaves rustled as if greeting someone. I opened my eyes to enjoy colorful dancing fluttering butterflies. The scenery had abruptly changed. The wind calmed my agonizing mind and the mesmerizing butterflies, took me down memory lane.
I was still a young immature being; barely 10 when I crossed his way or rather it was all part of a divine plan that drew me to that stranger.
The village I grew up in had a huge graveyard. I grew up hearing all sorts of sordid tales, especially, those types that adults would use to caution us from wandering there. But those tall tales never deterred my brothers and I to sneak into the wild cemetery; celebrating our childhood as explorers discovering a new land.
One bright afternoon, hopping merrily back from school, I was driven by an unknown urge to have a walk in our favorite "park”, for this was how we had named the cemetery. The sporadic chirping of the birds and my footsteps on the dry leaves constantly broke the solemn silence. Treading on the avenue, the huge trees fluttered freely. I just loved the kind of coldness I feel around trees. The world was unrealistically real to my 10-year-old fertile mind. I greeted them, believing...
We never know which word, action, glance or even thoughts can impact on someone.
Life brings to us an assortment of tiny mini tales. Some we cherish, others we bury in a corner. And weirdly enough, if we are aware, these anecdotes act as torch bearers when our heart is ebbed. When least expected, a word said with love and concern, can be the cure to someone's wounds.
Everything was tranquil: neither people nor the wind. Despite, the early hours the sun was already so warm. The heated sun, the laden briny smell of the slimy green rich sea and the cloudless sky were telling the state of my mind. My watery eyes reflected my hungry and relentless mind: thirsty for answers and reckless with the endless thoughts and emotions englobing me. I was nothing but a parched mind waiting to be filled.
That sultry warm summer, with its uncomfortable temperature, did nothing but added to the torture I was going thru. My mind and heart ruffled, wanting to fly to an unknown exotic place where nothing except bliss is inherent . Long subdued emotions found their way on my cheeks. I closed my eyes, feeling the mounting pain.
No sooner that they were closed, that a soft gentle breeze kissed me, sending a chill down my spine. I could no longer feel the scorching sun on my bare neck; the leaves rustled as if greeting someone. I opened my eyes to enjoy colorful dancing fluttering butterflies. The scenery had abruptly changed. The wind calmed my agonizing mind and the mesmerizing butterflies, took me down memory lane.
I was still a young immature being; barely 10 when I crossed his way or rather it was all part of a divine plan that drew me to that stranger.
The village I grew up in had a huge graveyard. I grew up hearing all sorts of sordid tales, especially, those types that adults would use to caution us from wandering there. But those tall tales never deterred my brothers and I to sneak into the wild cemetery; celebrating our childhood as explorers discovering a new land.
One bright afternoon, hopping merrily back from school, I was driven by an unknown urge to have a walk in our favorite "park”, for this was how we had named the cemetery. The sporadic chirping of the birds and my footsteps on the dry leaves constantly broke the solemn silence. Treading on the avenue, the huge trees fluttered freely. I just loved the kind of coldness I feel around trees. The world was unrealistically real to my 10-year-old fertile mind. I greeted them, believing...
