Because
nobody knows, I state here that I am a sucker for creativity. I am also a
sucker for picking recognized verses, giving them a modern twist and making
them incredibly dope, like a spoken word artist got his hands—and voice—on it,
but managing to maintain the original meaning. Someone did that! *insert
WhatsApp dancing woman emoji here* Now, I’m not a big fan of Tumblr blogs,
because they are more pictorial than lexical. But I am enamoured with Eyram’s. (Is it enamoured by or enamoured with?
Eish.) By all means, spare five minutes to visit it—you’ll need
only five minutes to take in all the content, to be honest. But it’s five
minutes excellently spent.
*
Cooking
He spied the grass he clutched. They had taken special care in
cooking school explaining this herb. One blade dropped in sauce released a
burst of flavour. Three blades in a steaming cup would cure insomnia. Four blades
meant eternal sleep.
His stew’s blandness reminded him of what it missed. He stalled,
his lethargy a side-effect of his recent sleeplessness. Three blades. Turn off the stove. Go to bed.
Bed still smelled like her. The depression her body had
carved into the mattress was still there, a cavity that would never be filled
right again.
He needed four blades.
*
Now. Eyram.
Debbie! Why, I love this so much! 💛
ReplyDeleteThanks a million Try! You're one of those I owe it to. :)
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