Home at Last

I was sent an errand to another state two days ago. I spent hours trying to sort out what I went there for. As the bus finally parked into the garage, I felt a wave of exhaustion wash over me. The long journey had taken it's toll - cramped seats, delayed connections, and endless hours of sitting had left me feeling drained.
I gathered my belongings and made my way through the crowded platform, my legs aching with each step. The thought of facing the rest of my day, of unpacking and settling back into routine, felt like a monumental task.

As I emerged from the garage, I was greeted by the bright sunlight, I squinted and raised my hand to shield my eyes, feeling like a traveler emerging from a long, dark tunnel.(Nigeria and bad road ehn🤧)
I had lost count of the hours, the minutes, the seconds. All I knew was that I was tired, tired of moving, tired of waiting, tired of being in transit.

I made my way home on my last "body battery". As I opened the door to our house, I felt a wave of relief wash over me this time, as my mum had already prepared dinner.

With a sigh and a smile, I dropped my bags to the floor and collapsed onto the couch, letting out a deep breath as I felt the soft cushions envelop me. I greeted my mum, but I didn't move from there, I closed my eyes, and let myself drift away into a well-deserved sleep. The journey was over, and I was home at last.