An Order Not A Choice

 The bus journey was always so long in the morning. It’s so tiring it’s not a wonder that most passengers are yawning. What a day I had ahead of me. I had to complete a dress I had barely started. The person would be a wedding guest. I knew how she wanted the dress to look, I just thought of the time it would take. I’d be up all night till break. I do enjoy sewing but these days I feel like the love for it is certainly fading. But then I look at my previous creations and my current ideas and I think to myself these are amazing. Juggling work and a hobby isn’t easy. The process is not as smooth as I had thought. I didn’t see myself staying permanently at my main job so this hobby would open doors. Perhaps even more. Only time will tell. My thoughts were interrupted by a tapping on my shoulder and a noise which came out as a yell. With fingers being pointed at me? What had I done? It’s too early for all of this the day had barely begun. He yelled I should get up and let him have my seat. The struggles of a black woman. I considered moving my feet but then refused. He can stand he’s not better then anyone else. We all have blood flowing through our vains, this isn’t the slave trade I’m not bonded by any chains.



Jasmine N Cannon-Ikurusi