CELE BRIDGE
It is a windy night. A crescent moon beams light upon a pedestrian bridge. On the bridge railing, a poster with the inscription ‘’Last chance! Repent Now’’ billows against the whirling wind. A group of beggars lay splattered all over, with each member belonging to a subset: mostly determined by the degree of their penury.

At the far edge of the bridge, a lone leper is seen struggling to determine the value of today’s earnings. For the last time, he gets it right. “Two hundred naira”, he mutters agonizingly. Next to him is a blind mother who has had quite enough of everything, and so turns a deaf ear to the cry of her child.

Meanwhile, a beautiful man dressed in a bespoke suit walks into their midst – this he does with such effortless grace. Unexpectedly, he begins to hand every beggar a note. Not one ignored. They all suddenly become united in their show of gratitude, as each gives a rather exaggerated bow.

“He must have it all in this life”, they all think. Every beggar present there wishes they were indeed him.

Not a significant moment passed yet; the gentleman approaches a vacant space at the edge of the bridge, leans on a railing, and then inhales a more than adequate amount of air. As I observe, it seems to come from a deep feeling of fulfillment rather than agitation. And then quickly, much to the horror of the mendicants present there, he steps over the railings and then leaps.

The night is still.


https://misttales./2017/07/11/cele-bridge/