What do you think?
Rate this book
Four Graves to Jericho
SHUT UP…LIFE HAPPENED!
Swallowing down a mixture of terror and sympathy I made way for them, conscious of dad’s gloomy mood; his eyes narrowed, rigid and cold. My heart hammered erratically and unlike on all other tense occasions, my senses became predominantly hypersensitive. The smell of fresh blood hit me on the inside; so strong I could almost taste it. I read a deep fear of death lingering steadily in mama’s pupils more like her adrenaline gradually faded from her system. One more punch, mama was down!
Aloof like a spectator empty of expression, I marveled sardonically at the new tricks he had brought into the boxing ring that time. One kick on her tummy pushed her in staggers against the walls and before she could regain balance, he was on her with both fists turning her jaws sideways. She seemed lost in a maze of thoughts that were obviously rendered vague by a buffet of punches that robbed her of an opportunity to neither yell nor even shred tears.
Blood was the first visible liquid that streamed from her nostrils, safe that she might have earlier on responded to several calls of nature if only well inspected. Although such films were played so often that I would continue replaying and only mind when new techniques were invented into the boxing ring, on that particular day; hell broke loose!
Fear tensed my neck and I could not hold my tears for deep in my heart, reality stroke that all the punching was being borne by my mother. Had it been done to any other person, perhaps I would perceive daddy a superman. He did it so deviously; just the way they do it in fiction movies…
When you see me today and feel I behave inappropriately as measured by the standards of the perfect world; take time and look at me again! The person you see is a limited edition of the real me, I am a product of my past. Do not judge me too soon, look deeper inside me and discover who I really am. My Inside Wounds are still oozing and if you may...bandage me...the actual me never got a chance to live! INSIDE WOUNDS NEVER FORM SCARS!
Swallowing down a mixture of terror and sympathy I made way for them, conscious of dad’s gloomy mood; his eyes narrowed, rigid and cold. My heart hammered erratically and unlike on all other tense occasions, my senses became predominantly hypersensitive. The smell of fresh blood hit me on the inside; so strong I could almost taste it. I read a deep fear of death lingering steadily in mama’s pupils more like her adrenaline gradually faded from her system. One more punch, mama was down!
Aloof like a spectator empty of expression, I marveled sardonically at the new tricks he had brought into the boxing ring that time. One kick on her tummy pushed her in staggers against the walls and before she could regain balance, he was on her with both fists turning her jaws sideways. She seemed lost in a maze of thoughts that were obviously rendered vague by a buffet of punches that robbed her of an opportunity to neither yell nor even shred tears.
Blood was the first visible liquid that streamed from her nostrils, safe that she might have earlier on responded to several calls of nature if only well inspected. Although such films were played so often that I would continue replaying and only mind when new techniques were invented into the boxing ring, on that particular day; hell broke loose!
Fear tensed my neck and I could not hold my tears for deep in my heart, reality stroke that all the punching was being borne by my mother. Had it been done to any other person, perhaps I would perceive daddy a superman. He did it so deviously; just the way they do it in fiction movies…
When you see me today and feel I behave inappropriately as measured by the standards of the perfect world; take time and look at me again! The person you see is a limited edition of the real me, I am a product of my past. Do not judge me too soon, look deeper inside me and discover who I really am. My Inside Wounds are still oozing and if you may...bandage me...the actual me never got a chance to live! INSIDE WOUNDS NEVER FORM SCARS!
195 pages, Paperback
Published January 1, 1989
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
No one has reviewed this book yet.