I don’t see any point in writing my story, because it’s one that you’ve probably read several times already. There’s nothing new that I want to state, so if revelation is what you seek, this sheet is one that you should crush within your palm and dunk into the nearest dustbin. If you’ve reached here thus far it’s only because you’re curious to find out if my story will be any different from the others. Thank God you’re not a cat, because your soul would be well on its way to its Maker by now.
There’s no need for me to have a name. Or even a gender. I’m just a person. Another statistic of earth that occupies this earth. An earth with a spirit being held together with rolls of hope. Hope of the Divine sort, for hope in earth is what got me here in the first place. And you’re still reading. For all you know I could be talking about you – the way you just shuffled in your seat as your collar got a little warm. Why are you feeling uncomfortable? It’s not as though I know whether you’re wondering if I’m going to spill your innermost secrets on this page. I could possibly write about the hearts you’ve broken, the promises you failed to keep, the lies you told to save the hair on the back of your neck, the swear word you uttered when you thought no one was listening, the sly glances you stole, or the times when you cried so much you were afraid you’d run out of tears. Your secrets are yours to keep.
And as for my story, I told you there isn’t one to tell, and unfortunately, the time you spent reading this cannot be reclaimed.
I wish you well.
© LaYinka Sanni, June 2012