THE STORY OF THE MARKET.

I have a story to write to you, my dearest reader. I have been working for you, for a long time now, and that has been one of the reasons I haven’t written to you, my beloved readers. But I promise you, that this particular story you would enjoy, and this time around, it would be on the market. The main and the abstract market would be simultaneously.

I would have changed my name, but I have decided to use that same name, “Paul”, to be consistent in my write-ups.

Ever since I have a girlfriend, my purse has never remained the same. From one expenditure to the other. In her voice, “Baby, I need this, baby I need that”. If someone have told me, that this is how it would be, I wouldn’t believe it. It is not her demanding makes me angry most of the time, even if I cover it with smiles, but it is the name, ” Baby”. If I am a “Baby”, then why do I have to spend on her, she should be the one spending on me instead.

I choose to write to you today because this incident occurred yesterday. I am a Catholic and I do attend morning mass, but not every day. Yesterday, I decided to rest from my Friday labour, and because of that, I didn’t attend morning mass.

Toward noon, I decided to go to the market to purchase some items, I would use in cooking soup for my girlfriend and me. Whenever my girlfriend is around, I always give her a special treat. That is just my person, I do not pretend, and even if I pretend, I don’t bluff for long.

On my way from the market, something miraculous happened, I think my story begins from here. But also I want to thank you for following me from the first paragraph to this point I am, now.

I crossed the road to my lane, walking back home, when suddenly a man came up to me, and took me out of the pedestrian way, gently, before I could know what was happening, a bus from nowhere came behind me and bruised my hands. After the bus passed, the man told me, he saw the bus coming, that was the reason he took me out of the way.

I thanked him and I went my way, the most annoying aspect is that the bus driver couldn’t stop by to say that he was sorry. It was at that moment, I knew that God has come to save me despite my sinful nature.

Let’s deviate a little from the story because I have not written this story for writing sake. After all, this story is embedded with connotations.

The bus denotes our leaders, and Paul signifies the average and poor masses, despite how they struggle to survive, they are trampled upon, and the man signifies his helper.

I remain Cyrinmike, your favourite Online writer.

Photo by Lesly Derksen.

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WHEN DEATH STRIKES.

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IN THE SPIRIT OF THEATRE.

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