He muttered within himself, looking so pale and unable to walk for a while having covered quite a long distance with his one pair tattered shoe he bought about a decade ago, exotic cars and buses passed refuses to give him a lift or render any form of help to him even as the sun becomes more intensified. However with the little pinch of optimism left in him he continued in search of his quest though not certain of where, from whom his desires would be fulfilled.
About half an hour walk when the sun is at it peak, he noticed one of his shoes is making a weird sound and he felt a bit slack on the grip of the buckle, stopped to fix it as usual with the last piece of nail left in his dirty old jeans to pin down the open tip. He picked it up only to find out that it has become worst. The whole shoe cover and sole has been totally damaged probably because of the over walk he had that week.
Now it becomes dawn on him that he has to continue with either a one legged shoe or better still with his bear foot.
Mr poverty reach out to the tip of his old faded blue shirt to wipe the slums of sweat on his face, he heard a loud sound like scrapping cloth into two with hands. behold it was his shirt. He stood in distress saying "what kind of world is this? At first its was my best pair of shoe that got ripped apart, now its my shirt, how on earth am I going to walk around the street with this? Won't people think am crazy?" He concluded to give up on his quest and sat by the road side. Lost in thought and tears rolling down his eyes he felt a tap on his shoulder, he looked up it was his cousins "diabetes and kwashiorkor" They helped him up and returned back to their remote village named diseases.
THE END
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