Under Life's Arch - A Freewrite

Over the river.

Looked like the spine of a sleeping dragon, though. It is fading away. I mean the paints. But to the people of the city, he sleeps simply a hack, a relic of colonial days and something that looks like a shortcut for schoolchildren. And for some places looks like a whispered dream to my friend who is looking at it from a far distance.

Source
My friend's name is Musa. The Haqq is a lifeline. He was 17 years old and he is the eldest son of his family. Which comprises six people.

His father has been to Lagos before in search of work early in the days, and every morning before the call, Musa will slip out of their room, shark across the arc, then make his way to the market as fast as possible where he sold roasted groundnuts.S leepy commuters who are going to and fro.

But today, life is different. Musa is seeing the hack from a different perspective. Musa is seeing the hack from a view of something that reminds him of a childhood struggle that he has lived with. He isn't used to jumping because there is always a voice that says.

And so we shout it from the corner, but our friend, I mean, I used to tell you. OK.Do you know what you are doing?