It was a normal day of getting into the tunnel which we worked at. I'm still on my 2nd year of land reforming - Tilling and examining land to approve its fortification for the success of our goal to lessen and prevent the destruction of mother earth. On the third grafting of the root chakras( an ingredient for the survival of nature) I enveloped myself of inhibition, yet contained a piece of my energy with cold shrugging shoulders as I trembled on the corner of the working area. I am not sure of how will I offer my service with this uncertainty no one knows I've been strugling. Everyday is energy draining, by each passing time that consumes a huge part of my throat chakra which is mostly needed in all our life yet in disgrace, I have it the least.
They were all busy scooping, muds of different kinds in order to test for any microorganisms which can be possible for the growth of a new antidote for each extinct species of plants. Another thing is, getting samples of mud could help detect the harmful chemicals and microorganisms brought about by the spilled chemicals from industrial and domestic places nearby and miles away from the lands point. "Over here! Slow down with the tilted ramp. It's covered with used cooking oils from fast food chains 20 miles east." Our chief commanded with his intimidating military look, gesturing us to move by his counting. "1.2.3.4!" By no means of seconds, snaps his fingers and whistle halts with a sudden pang in our ears.
YOU ARE READING
Drench With Words
NezařaditelnéA collection of drafts I wrote from scratch papers, at the back pages of my notebooks, forgotten diaries, detained thoughts, leakage of words in some social medias and others I might be hiding in the confines of my deep enigmatic thoughts.
