Work by Tolulope Adedayo

Walking down the stairs, the smell of urine shot through my nose. The click click of my heels hitting the hard concrete as I tried not to fall. The three year old paint peeling off the wall, trying to cover up the graffiti underneath. Just like covering up the truth. I accidentally touch the wall, then clean my hand in disgust. I reach the bottom of the stairs and stare at the fountain, decayed and stained. Just like a smoker’s teeth full of dirt and impurities, too late to clean.