The silvering glitter from the curved top hexagonal scales, caught the reflection of the crescent moon and as it sounded it lands back in. When The Fish Flip And Turn, it lands hard and make the dark surface of the lagoon form inconsistent ripples. It's saying a lot and hoping a lot and most of all a heavy dose of maybe.
Maybe it will land on the same spot or travel with the chaotic sea waves. Whatever happens it is time and this time, u shall wait and see it through. No obstacles or prey shall head my way and no goal shall be left unattained. This time, I too shall swim against the heavy currents and finally overcome....
Deep inside the compound, the grass grows and as footsteps crush it, new seeds sink further down into the moist soil and start to grow. It is this outdoors feeling that cannot be duplicated, I miss it sometimes but most times I don't. Blame my allergies, blame my horrible indoors habit but I do miss the nostalgic smell of grass.
It reminds me of my childhood, those beautiful blade grass that slice and stick to my skin in that my lovely pale blue and white checkard sleeveless primary school uniform. The outdoor was my sanctuary back then, the unrestricted place I could run fast and not knock down precious furniture. That place I could tumble and play in the sand and damn the consequences when I got home. It enraged my mum, who quickly found the best solution. I learned to wash and hated it, but guess what. As soon as the break time bell rang, I forgot about the sickening smell of detergent or the itchy feeling my hands got from repeatedly trying to remove grass and mud stains. Instead, I would run fast and slide with my knees on the grass like footballers do when they score. Only I don't succeed at first, instead I scraped and injured my delicate knees. Did I report to the sick bay? Of course not, as usual I will be scolded and told to stand still until mentholated spirit or iodine hurt my open wounds. So I did what any wrestlers child would do, rolled up my snow white knee length socks and bragged it was my temporary bandage. A teacher caught means dragged me to the sick bay and my squealing in pain was ignored as I was given a note home. I don't know what they were thinking. I lost the note in a magic ghust of wind on the way home and spent thirty minutes trying to remove blood stains from the sock. That was hard and my mum insisted I would wear it stained to school, me I improvised and trimmed it off. My mum found out and spanked me and I tracked the edge to give it a neat edge.
My childhood was filled with defiance and consequences like that and the best memories I always had.
Life truly was golden and now it is predictable and bland.
Maybe it was time to travel or maybe another time to do a professional course. Either way, I need some excitement.
My early morning walk was great but my office work was annoying. Am I the only one that thinks everything has gone up and clients have dwindled.
Thank God for this journal, I can still be creative without restrictions. This is really a different world from what eight year old me imagined.
I was going to go out and then bumped into Daniel Ojora. It could be worse but it's not that bad.
'Lunch?'
'Not today, tomorrow. I have an appointment'
I tell him, side hug him and leave.
I did not lie, I had an appointment with myself. It was time to go back to the old drawing board and think without interruptions. And I had so much to flesh out...
**"ADE'S JOURNAL", Season 3, Episode 31**
*"ADE'S JOURNAL", 31, COPYRIGHT 2018*
**BUSOLA ELEGBEDE, COPYRIGHT 2018**
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