They never flinched but I could tell they were listening.
‘I can tell you about sick cain row hair-styles. About bad bwoys and gals that bust up someone’s face when they get bright, ‘bout crews that wear hoodies that say their name on the back. About selling and bunning high grade. Subaru cars that dealers drive. Raves and underground music. Pimps and hoes who live for heroin. Frustrated junkies waiting on the street corner. I don’t live fairytale. I anticipate that I should think intellectual thoughts that would overtake the negative ones I have in mind. Be smart. Believe in dreams. Dreams don’t never come true. Analyse this kind of life as if engrossed in the scriptures of Deuteronomy. A long journey through the wilderness, to escape and find freedom. I know it’s here. Would you let me enter this land you call Eutopia?’
They looked puzzled, I could tell. In fact I knew I was different to anyone they had allowed in their perfect world.
‘Naomi May, thy cannot enter Eutopia,’ he said, shaking his head of glory. ‘Search in they heart’.
He put down his sword and placed his hand on his heart sincerely.
‘Dis Eden is made fi dem who be-lieve in thine heart, mind and soul…believe dreams is possible…can come true. Those are who we allow to enter.’
They looked disappointed that they were unable to let me in. But they were firm and I knew they wouldn’t back down.
Why did I give them such a long speech, and did they take me seriously?
I need to search they said to me.
How do you search when you know you’re lost? Search for what?
One Nazarite held out his hand and clenched his fist. When he opened his hand again a white dove appeared and settled peacefully in his palm.
‘Fly,’ he said. The dove flew away over the tall steel gates and into the garden.
‘Believe,’ said the other.
My vision was gone, and so I pressed the buzzer.
‘Hello.’
‘Selena it’s Ny, let me in, it’s freezing out here.’
I waited for the lift to reach the ground floor. I got in and pushed the button for the fourth floor. It shuddered as the doors closed and reeked of sweaty bodies and stale piss. The rain had drenched me from head to toe and my straight hair had gone curly. I tied it up in a bun. The blue from my jeans had run on my trainers. My fur coat had matted and felt clammy, still I stepped out the lift, feeling good, ready to party.
I knocked on Selena’s door. A true house party was going on in her yard. I could hear the pumping of the sick Garage music. Saturday nights was raving time for me. They were always heavy.
This was The End, drug dealers paraded the streets in flash Subaru cars with alloy wheels, blaring music from their sound systems that shook the whole tower block. They were far from cool about what they did. It didn’t matter if it was light or dark, selling drugs was a twenty four hour, seven days a week business. It was a timeless affair.
‘I can tell you about sick cain row hair-
‘Naomi May, thy cannot enter Eutopia,’ he said, shaking his head of glory. ‘Search in they heart’.
He put down his sword and placed his hand on his heart sincerely.
‘Dis Eden is made fi dem who be-
Why did I give them such a long speech, and did they take me seriously?
I need to search they said to me.
How do you search when you know you’re lost? Search for what?
One Nazarite held out his hand and clenched his fist. When he opened his hand again a white dove appeared and settled peacefully in his palm.
‘Fly,’ he said. The dove flew away over the tall steel gates and into the garden.
‘Believe,’ said the other.
My vision was gone, and so I pressed the buzzer.
‘Hello.’
‘Selena it’s Ny, let me in, it’s freezing out here.’
I waited for the lift to reach the ground floor. I got in and pushed the button for the fourth floor. It shuddered as the doors closed and reeked of sweaty bodies and stale piss. The rain had drenched me from head to toe and my straight hair had gone curly. I tied it up in a bun. The blue from my jeans had run on my trainers. My fur coat had matted and felt clammy, still I stepped out the lift, feeling good, ready to party.
I knocked on Selena’s door. A true house party was going on in her yard. I could hear the pumping of the sick Garage music. Saturday nights was raving time for me. They were always heavy.
This was The End, drug dealers paraded the streets in flash Subaru cars with alloy wheels, blaring music from their sound systems that shook the whole tower block. They were far from cool about what they did. It didn’t matter if it was light or dark, selling drugs was a twenty four hour, seven days a week business. It was a timeless affair.
