|Calendar at Bulawayo Club © Ernest Mackina (2013)|
On a cold Thursday, comforted by the sharp rays of the midday sun, I walked on the gloomy streets and breathed the dry air which was decorated by dusty particles, the kind that would easily choke any sense of hope.
I was kept company by my companion pessimism whose character was strengthened by previous seasons of sombre tragedies and memories of melancholic moments.
Maybe, just maybe - hope lies in the mind, maybe, the right thought would saturate surroundings into an atmosphere of optimism, which one day would in condenses into pregnant clouds of appreciations, and precipitate torrents of trust, maybe... just maybe, it may start with this thought:
"These are the good times in our lives
So throw on a smile, it will be alright"
"Time heals all wounds"