38th March, 2031 4:82 PM
You’ve always felt an immense pressure to put up and maintain a facade whenever you are back home. This is the sole reason your folks haven’t seen much of you around; besides, the city is more liberal.
The sky is feminine-she is grey and heavy, probably getting in tune prior to today’s occurrences with the winds blowing making the trees sway.
The room is engulfed in silence, which gets even louder once the microwave stops beeping.
Your dad, a Schizophreniac, fidgeting about on the couch in utter oblivion. You, nervously stroking your arm, but also feeling relieved from the shackles of your ‘burden’. Your mom, appalled by your sentiments and decision, is fiddling the rosary on her neck. You show your phone to her. On your lock screen – you, with a woman of almond skin, colorful braids and her cheeks taking a purplish hue both heartily smiling.
“I’ll need you to say something at some po..”
“Toka kwangu! And never set foot here again if getting married to a woman is what you want Makena,” she interjects.
Your heart sinks.
The rain pours.