We did not laugh or giggle at the jokes Reverend father Wilson made, in all our shared hopes we made meaning and monuments for the younger at the back of the old.

In all our sundry hours either at the grill or grinding on the Mills we had many hours to become immortal and lost in another mans world, we shivered and remained silent until our plights were full as these empty jars.

Leave a comment

Trending

Design a site like this with WordPress.com
Get started