Diary: Slow Snails

[Photography by Cristobal Guerra Naranjo]
It’s one of those days when everything is nicely fogged up––no pun intended. Outside the window is a soft picture, not unlike cotton candies: diluted and translucent. It is a thick spread of cream with tints of gray over everything.
Not forgetting the bit of chill, it is the kind of day that begs for burning candles, incenses and watching smoke curl up in sweet scents to hug the corners of space. If you’ve a fireplace, I envy you. Today definitely wants for something soothing. Perhaps blues, but I won’t mind jazz.
It’s not encouraging of conversation. No. The preference is very little speaking and if one feels a need to reach out to whomever one shares it with, offering smiles. I would rather be alone.

Happy Friday,
J. A. Odartey

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