Having had a day and a three quarter decided to make a
contribution in this thing we keep calling my life.
My friend had just rushed like he had forgot something or
had just lost something didn’t quite got what he was saying and I was for the
idea to let him do his thing as I
stepped into the car and try and count all the ‘loot’ collected that night .
I settled in the driver seat and removed the stash of cash
that was in my back pocket and before I started to numerically analyze my
efforts, I saw that the passenger’s door was slightly ajar and the lock had
been set , as I reached out to lock it the guy who was standing close to the
car next to a lady reached in to grab the handle and got in the car. I wanted
to open my car-side-door and rush out, that was when he stuck the barrel of a
small-round- hand gun and judging from the shady movies; it must have been a
9mm. Some arrogant side of me wanted to shout out that’s a bloody fake and
knock the sense out of this bloke but as I breathed in as my heart searched for
air to fill its racing requirements ‘the barrel being so close to my nostrils I
got a whiff of smell like of burnt iron and a combination of dust.
I had worked so hard to get where I was and was certainly
not going to let some money- hungry-lazy boned-bloke take what I have worked
for with blood and tears. On the other side of this thing we call a spectrum
was the idea that I can always make more later since I had what he couldn’t steal
and that is an innovative and absolutely resilient mind, with the strength to
get up from anything you dish at it, in your futile attempts to pull or break
or even forge small cracks on its well polished titanium surface
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