The Janitor

I hate you,were the last words she said as she helped herself to the restroom.

Tears gushing from her eyes like the botifalls of Ghana. Apparently she had no idea, the Janitor observed her closely as she poured out her emotions to the basin. Why has she place tears above herself the Janitor thought.

Was it not likely,most probable, indeed, quite certain, that the Janitor was himself also an emotional person filled with grieve as he had just lost his mother. How should he approach her,he thought to himself.

Calmly, the janitor shipped a hand at her back madame? This is the male toilet he said. Abruptly she tried to adjust but her body failed her.

The janitor watch in a close profile, her face – a rough painting something that answers severely to a skin lightening cream or perhaps her tears wiped away her contour or it was layed on a wrong foundation the Janitor thought to himself.
Then a kind indignation filled the Janitor, words shot out softly from the janitor’s mouth with an explosive humbleness that woke her heart as she began to spit her problems. In all it was love.

Love- That gleaming white sign, that when first installed it’s shines so bright as the sun but not very long those that don’t watch closely will stare as every letter of it will no longer be decipherable.

The Janitor laughed a much softer laugh and let his silence swallow up the words “anyway” he said finally,these kind words Lucas write


“If you only listen to your heart when someone’s knocking, you will only invite the needy in ,
As soon as they fed and rested they start to notice the flicking lights, the leaking pipe , the unwanted shape, the bad coffee, the dirty kitchen, the broken mirror and the tear in the curtain ”

_That brief moment engulfed her entire existence and put her in a trace of deep introspection. She thought to her self what her broken mirror was, how her dirty kitchen looked and how bad her coffee tasted. In that instance she beheld her imperfections and had a surge of distaste towards the image staring at her.

But then again an inner intuition rang bells in her ears as she got to realise that everyone has a dirty kitchen, and a bad coffee. There’s a leaking pipe of a sort in everyone’s home.

And those imperfections we live with and must accept. People who come into our lives, take advantage of us and leave for our imperfections are themselves imperfect and never actually deserved us.

As these crossed her mind, she felt a rush of strength course through her veins as she forgot what pain she had been in few minutes ago.

Everyone they say has an angel who comes to the rescue when really needed, she had just had her encounter with an angel and she won’t forget the day she met the Janitor.

Andrew David Omokafe

Andrew David Omokafe

Inquisitive about life.

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