Just another day at work

I look out and see him sprinkling water on the pots. Tangled mane…face streaked with dirt… dressed in ragged shorts.

Bikes and autos honk and beep, trying to wiggle out of the crowd. The car starts moving.

There’s a modest block with a hole in front. Maybe that’s his home…?  I see a person call out to him. He is not alone.
He keeps the mug down and runs off… heels kicking high. That should make me feel better.

Day disappears in the routine chores. I talk and smile.

And still, nothing shakes this feeling.

Just another day at work.


Author: wayfaringscribbler

A whimsical scribbler and wayfarer, comfort loving suburbanite and an armchair supporter of Carpe Diem, with a love for tea and Wodehouse.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s