The sparse cupboard with the solitary pack of Batchelor soup and canned beans stared back at him as if in mockery. His posh apartment was a sorry mess. Take out boxes and dirty mugs littered the kitchen and George wondered when his life had become so empty.
He was fatigued from months of insufficient sleep and taking work home; the promotion came with more responsibilities than anticipated. He was tired of eating out of paper boxes, he missed having a decent relationship with anyone and would have given a tooth for some helping of the curry flavourful dish that floated down the corridor from his married neighbours’ apartment; his tummy grumbled at the thought.
The ping of the microwave interrupted his thoughts and the cup of overflowing soup that looked more like lava made him swear. With a sigh of resignation, he picked up the phone to call Chinatown. The hum of voices and laughter from next door sharply reminded him that a robust bank balance did not make up for loneliness.
No two sunsets are the same and I am always drawn to look at the beautiful strokes and hues of orange and yellow that it paints the sky. No matter how many times I’ve seen the sun set, my spirit still hums in contentment when gazing at that gorgeous shiny ball hanging up there. Even when driving, sometimes I pull over and take it all in because it disappears within the hour.
Sunsets are proof that no matter what happens, every day can end beautifully – Kristen Butler
Every sunset brings the promise of a new dawn – Ralph Waldo Emerson
In a thousand years, I can never get tired of looking at sunsets and the silhouettes that it paints – Jacqueline
Sunsets like childhood are viewed with wonder, not just because they are beautiful, but because they are fleeting – Richard Paul Evans
When I stare at the blush of the sky from the kiss of the Sun set, I know a deep satisfaction in me and thank God for having lived through another blessed day. Jacqueline
As the deer pants for water so does my soul pantfor peace in today’s world. Each day I wear my big girl pants and get on with living in the face of multiple challenges, sometimes, unfortunately, doubled due to the colour of my skin. One topic that I find unsavoury to talk about is race and that in 2017 I have to justify myself as a human and my right to life.
I was raised by loving, upright and hardworking folks and I aim to be a good representative of my parents. Back home, we didn’t bother with the difference of skin colour and all the rampantugliness of hate that currently swirls around.
I didn’t know that I’m black. I only knew that I’m a valuable human being and a fellow occupant of the world and it was not until I ventured away from my home country to the US and now the UAE that the true depth of the human psyche shows up in ways I never anticipated. It has been a roller-coaster ride.
My spirit is heavy at the moment and I want to keep my thoughts contained. It’s just that I’m sad that I’m raising children in a world where a good part of their childhood is now spent teaching them that they are no different nor less valuable than others, teaching them how to react if by any chance they ever run into a policeman, teaching them to walk away when someone decides to be flippant and call them ugly words. Teaching them that they must be conscious participants in life because they can make a difference and maybe change will come in their time. Teaching them things children shouldn’t be saddled with. Teaching them………it’s simply exhausting.
Now we’ve got a spanking new badge for SoCS. Well done to all the participants and thank you, Linda, for today’s prompt ‘pant.’
What’s in your jukebox? I enjoyed this post. Like her, when I started my blogging journey, it was without any expectations but simply to write to my heart’s content and those letters from the heart yield abundant results.
I read this short beautiful post and my thoughts stray to me and my son who will be transitioning off to college by the tail-end of next year all things being equal. I must say that my heart often skips a bit when I think of it.
A read that compels one to wonder. I pray things get better soon. I’ll borrow the comments made by Kevin Brennan
What kills me is that this brand of racist hatred is in no way compatible with Christianity, yet they wear the cross like they’re marchin’ for Jesus. Hey, Jesus would tear them a new one if he came back today!
Do step in, explore these blogs and show some love.