Sometimes Life Happens(Even at 5 am)


I like early mornings because of the silence. People are asleep, the surroundings are still, my brain is just waking up so there are yet to be a million thoughts cascading over each other in there. The neighbours’ chicken will sometimes be clucking in the morning. Yes, I get it, this is what chicken do, but that does not make it any less annoying. Occasionally, the neighbours’ dog will be barking about one thing or another, probably chasing its tail round and round. We have a dog too, but it is generally silent, docile. The rowdy one, my little Benjamin Button, was exiled to ushago. A story for another day, but yes, our dog is silent. This morning however, I could hear a disturbance from somewhere outside. Voices, sounds that may or may not have been there. You know how sometimes the mind plays tricks on you, like when you could swear you just heard someone say your name but then no one did and you start to low key question your sanity. I ignored the sounds but they persisted so I decided to venture onto the balcony, be nosy, snoop.

Trust the Hours


Yesterday(sometime last week now, this draft almost fossilized on my machine), I officially finished my first short story. I hated it. All 2971 words of it. I still mostly do. The story came to me on a bus ride from Juja to town, J. K. Rowling vibes, except the story that it ended up becoming was nothing like the little draft I jotted down on Evernote on that bus ride home. This thing about a story taking on a life of its own, maybe that is what that was. I felt like every time I stopped and then came back after perhaps a day, things were different. Going in another direction. I wonder if I would have ended up with the same story had I sat down and pounded it out all in one go. I doubt it. One thing I know for sure, up until the moment when I ended the story, I really had no idea it would end that way.