Sunday 30 November 2008

Mr Nobody


I saw him from afar.

He just sat there; in camouflage and army boots. There on the pavement, lost in conversation with some unseen voice on the other side.

There was something about him sitting on the floor in the middle of a busy street in the heart of the city, that intrigued me. I drew closer, He didnt sense my approach, he never turned.

Who is he? He has no face, no identity, just a man, sitting there, in camouflage and army boots.

And just as quickly as I had approached, I did my business and went my way. Looking back to catch a view of his face would have ruined the mystique of the moment, so I pressed on without so much as a backward glance, like one afraid of turning into a pillar of salt.

He never did turn, I never did get to see his face.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

This is poetry. The picture tells the story so well, and the story is so apt for the picture. Your blog is a great find!

Dara

Unknown said...

Good stuff and a beautiful tribute to your beautiful Mum. I like the way you paint with words. I actually thought you were going to post a story you had told me some years back when you where a little girl ,Lol! Well, I'll remind later

Cheers,
Omo

Unknown said...

This piece is quite interesting Tope, B/c I feel we can all relate to it.
I believe we've all been curious at one time to see what "that face looks like or who it is" for no particular reason (some Kinda curiosity).
Well, maybe I shold speak for myself. Nice though
Omo Iruoje

Roc said...

You wrote this quite well..

Any chance of an update soon??