WRESTLING WITH FREEDOM

Diary 1,
It was beginning to gnaw at me,this irksome fretting over my last day at the office. At various times in my life I have struggled with the theory of zoe and for this time I felt a looser.
 The silver chain at my humbled crib at Genesis Apartments swung gently from a draft creeping into the house through partially finished walls.The chain,as it brushed up against the dusty  60~watt bulb protruding from one of the wood rafters played a song with the hollow whistle of wind that sneaked in the poorly sealed windows.Tink.tink...ti tink. The lonely noise went on for a long moment,then a short phlegmy cough punctured the quiet and the shuffle of papers,and a chair leg scrape ended the winsome song.
I pulled my blue knitted warmer tighter,I stiffened my spine as if in defiance of the bitging August air seeping into the house.I padded to my white enamel stove .The ancient stove chipped and yellowing,popped to life as I turned the knob.I placed a copper tea kettle onto the burner and as the flames licked the pot of water I reached for a loaf of wheat bread that Sat alone on the top of my small refrigerator,still in its pan and covered with a clean kitchen towel.
Pairing a thick slice of bread with my last apple,I pushed the newspaper across the table and dropped into a chair.The earth had just said goodbye to the sun as it turned away toward the moon.Long dark shadows filled the room's corners,unlit by the sole bulb weakly shining above the table.
While I was planning my next few hours before I went to sleep,I took out my phone and went online so that I could respond to the many messages I had received while I was at work  but couldn't respond because of how busy my schedule was.
The kitchen, silent now was still chilly.The light chain began to click gently   Again in the silvery moonlit room.The bulb was dim now.Buzz,Buzz,Buzz.Swiveling quickly,I focused my attention on the incoming phone messages as the phone vibrated again,decibels higher.
The door bell rang,dang dang,dang..dang.It took my attention and I kept my phone aside,wait,was I expecting anyone?
 (Coming Soon)...

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

HIV$AIDS DEMENTIA

Image
 HIV &AIDS DEMENTIA AIDS dementia complex typically occurs as the CD4+ count falls to less than 200 cells/microliter. It may be the first sign of AIDS. With the advent of highly active antiretroviral therapy (HAART), the frequency of ADC has declined. HAART may not only prevent or delay the onset of AIDS dementia complex in people with HIV infection, it can also improve mental function in people who already have ADC. Causes of AIDS Dementia AIDS dementia complex is caused by the HIV virus itself, not by the opportunistic infections that occur commonly in the course of the disease. We do not know exactly how the virus damages brain cells. HIV may affect the brain through several mechanisms. Viral proteins may damage nerve cells directly or by infecting inflammatory cells in the brain and spinal cord. HIV may then induce these cells to damage and disable nerve cells. HIV appears to cause generalized inflammation , which cause
Read more

My Birthday (1st June)

Image
Today being the day i was born,i look back and feel a touch of pride at my younger self's dedication to literature,activism and aviation which have always given me the strength of mind to resist the blandishments of enemies of promise.. I was born at Bondeni Maternity on 1st June 1996.And the time?The time matters,too.Well then at night.No,its important to be more...On the stroke of midnight,as a matter of fact.Clock-hands joined palms in respectful greeting as i came.Oh,spe ll it out,spell it out:at the precise instant of Kenya's celebration as a free state on Madaraka Day,i tumbled forth into the world.There were gasps.And,outside the window,fireworks and crowds.A few seconds later,my father broke his big toe;but his a mere trifle when set beside what had befallen me in that benighted moment,because thanks to the occult of tyrannies of those blandly saluting clocks i had been mysteriously handcuffed to history,my destinies indissolubly chained to those of my country.For
Read more