A Short Story: A Drop of Colour

Dear Joyce,

Etesen? (How are you) I have finally arrived. To God be the glory. I’m here in the mother land, the second home that we always dreamed about as little children. I’m sad that you can’t be here with me. Maybe one day you can visit me.

I don’t know where to begin.  There is so much to tell. I’ll start by telling you about the weather. Joyce, it is cold. So very cold here in London. When I exhale the air is white! Can you imagine? I think the sun doesn’t exist in England. Honestly! I miss the sun, but I think I’ll get used to this English weather. Oh, and you will be surprised to hear this. The pavements are not made out of gold, Joyce. To be honest, they look very normal and quite grey. England is grey.  It is true. I want to paint the whole place bright yellow. This makes me miss Ghana and its vibrant colours everywhere. Though, I hope things will be different in the summer. The buildings are so large, larger than what we’ve ever seen. You remember we used to say that the English buildings touch could heaven? I think they probably do. I miss all of you so much. I will write to you soon.




So, I got the idea to write a series of letters about two sisters that move abroad from Ghana to London and America. I still haven’t decided where it will be set (possibly the 1960s or 1970s) (possibly New York ). It’s like a short epistolic book.I’ll see where it goes as i’m just having a bit of fun with this.  I would love constructive feedback!

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