Temporary Home
For some people, this world is only a stopover. They arrive here to do some good while they can, but they know that this is still not their true home. They are angels who come to light up our lives with their luminescence and to teach us what they can before they have to songesha on. They flash in on golden wings, but it seems that they are gone before wewe can say “Thank you” au “I upendo you”. They leave softly, without fanfare. They kiss our brow as lightly as a heart’s whisper, and smile, blinding us with its brightness. When we blink, they are gone.
For some people, this world is only a stopover. They arrive here to do some good while they can, but they know that this is still not their true home. They are angels who come to light up our lives with their luminescence and to teach us what they can before they have to songesha on. They flash in on golden wings, but it seems that they are gone before wewe can say “Thank you” au “I upendo you”. They leave softly, without fanfare. They kiss our brow as lightly as a heart’s whisper, and smile, blinding us with its brightness. When we blink, they are gone.
January 15, 1815
Journal,
Its cold. My chakula is almost gone, I can’t feel my hands. I Lost my hat; my ears are frozen. My sisters are dying. Sasha has pneumonia, and Nastea’s Lost her kanzu, koti and shoes. My hair is falling out. I look at the broken down train behind us. Tree’s sleep soundlessly on juu of it. I sit at a mti trunk, with wewe on my lap, and a scrawny pencil in my hand. Nastea sits beside Sasha, feeding her berries and herbs. I hope things get better, Journal. I hope things get better.
Bye Journal,
Nadia
Journal,
Its cold. My chakula is almost gone, I can’t feel my hands. I Lost my hat; my ears are frozen. My sisters are dying. Sasha has pneumonia, and Nastea’s Lost her kanzu, koti and shoes. My hair is falling out. I look at the broken down train behind us. Tree’s sleep soundlessly on juu of it. I sit at a mti trunk, with wewe on my lap, and a scrawny pencil in my hand. Nastea sits beside Sasha, feeding her berries and herbs. I hope things get better, Journal. I hope things get better.
Bye Journal,
Nadia