“To call you my friend? My wife? My love, my editor, my pet? I don’t know. Already you move hazy through my life & then out of it again.” – Essay on Crying in Public by Cameron Awkward-Rich
some friends have boyfriends some friends are pregnant some friends are abroad and play it like they’re at the end of a road near extinction let us say i once had a dog i never told my sister certainly not my brother i cannot remember if i loved my dog all i remember is life was as a scaffold to sweet bliss i was the coupler and the dog was the brace this is a difficult thing to say but it isn’t a difficult metaphor to use we needed each other weeks passed my lover i mean my friend i mean my dog would leave bowls full of stale meals in my wake which is to confess unfed by my hand it grew still i wondered why i asked why expecting my dog to talk back to me like waiting for a door at the fore of a solid brick wall if ever you had your echo return to you you probably figured how this tale would end so allow me skip it would you scratch that i know how the illusion of life can joyfully strain a thing suffice to say weeks passed my dog died which is to say it entered an unreachable place i didn’t shed a tear but i felt a tear in my chest like a piece of fine cloth splitting its weaves yes i was distressed like a bird without wings but who could i tell it is a wretched thing to serve an end without a beginning like waking up one morning with so many happy things that do not belong in your head
I Echo is a Ghanaian-Nigerian writer on a neverending search of self. He is confident in one thing: He would like to explore the world, realise new cultures, create new conversations and hopefully save the world by saving himself. He tweets as @AyeEcho
Lost Balloon 