“Laying in darkness, a glint of light but not effective enough to considerably improve my sight. The atmosphere starts to get warmer as the flames of the candles flicker, all while I think to myself, “Can’t this loadshedding go any quicker”? My head remains on my pillow and I get a notification – battery low. Oh no, I think to myself. Can this get any worse? Before I know it, it’s time to ask mom for money from her purse.
The wax from the candles are now easily visible, while here I am, miserable. Thinking of creative ways to keep myself occupied but poetry is the only thing that’s dwelling in my mind. Dancing around like it’s the last dance. I turn to the time and look at it with a suspicious stance, almost there. Waiting for the sound of electricity like a school kid waiting for the bell for break, the silence when there’s no lights is scary, you’d deem it to be fake.
At last, there is light at the end of the tunnel, literally. Every room now has light and there is no more darkness, until tomorrow though but even then, we’ll never fully be prepared for something such as this.”
KIVASH HARIRAM
Paper Trail Literary Journal
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