One man’s hobby becomes three women’s last resort of hope…
Have you ever wondered what goes on behind your neighbour’s closed door? If the noises that come through the thin walls of their apartment mean they are laughing and are happy? Or are they fighting and resentful towards each other?
Have you wondered if the shadows on the long Arabic hand made silk curtains across the street are of people discussing their next trip to the Caribbean or are they arguing on who gets the house and the furniture after the divorce?
When you walk past a couple speaking in a different language, have you ever wondered why their faces and body language reflect the complete opposite of their soft voice tone and their twitching tight smiles?
Families always look happy from the outside, especially those who always walk in the light of flashing bulbs and with a huge spot light on them called the gossip columns. How we all envy the rich and famous with their perfect houses, perfect cars, perfect children, perfect marriage and perfect lives.
Everything is so perfect, glittering gold perfect.
Nothing is ever so perfect, there is always some damage. This is life; the universe makes a comedy of screwing every single person over, how else is it going to get its kicks?
Everything is damaged, for some more than others, it’s just that the rich can afford to hang portraits over the cracks in the walls and throw money at problems because they have an image to sustain. And no one would ever notice. Behind those fake Oscar winning smiles, there is a crying soul trapped in the rules of society to even contemplate breaking free.
Rich, poor, whichever race, there are cracks on the walls and with time and added pressure the whole house comes down on their heads, and the sad thing is, no one is immune to it. It can happen to anyone and bad luck has got nothing to do with it.