...looking at her face carefully, I could see where beauty once touched down..the marks were clearly visible but only to the trained eye..
she looked more like a story that once happened, a part of a human museum that now detailed the evolution of human attrictiveness..She was now a settling dust disturbed by the stirs of a thousand suitors, her life has been a site where many wars have been fought and life being so kind has adequately provided for her retirement by leaving her one limb leaf as a spouse...
what is left of her prized visage which had been a canvas where a dozen colours has been mixed, and displayed, is the dried-off remembrance of what Perfect used to be..Her memories are her only treasure now, her only consolation .the only evidence of a life in the sun.And even that can only reign until dementia comes with a warrant, a promise which she is afraid will be kept..
(c)Samson Abanni
#from a writer's diary.
Comments