1.
He walked briskly into the club, aware of the questioning looks of the two stern-faced guards. These men, their huge muscled arms folded across their chest watched him, waiting for him to make an unsure move. Their eyes followed him till he was swallowed by the partying crowd. The club was full to the brim. Clouds of cigarette smoke mixed unrestrained with the sharp smell of alcohol like newlyweds in warm embrace. The hall was dim, only lit up occasionally by rains of coloured lights from the sole kaleidoscope in full gyre at the centre. The DJ played a song by terry G that got everyone in a frenzy. A lady pirouetted frenetically to the song like a Sango priestess in full trance. The club was The Heavens, somewhere in Festac, a suburb of Lagos. Mike wondered why she had chosen this rendezvous, this place of all the romantic places in Lagos.
 Mike remembered  her vividly, her ebony looks, dreamy eyes, lips that wore a permanent smile. He had bumped into her in the queue at ojuelegba while waiting for the BRT bus. She had turned, in slow motion it seemed. Time stood still. He was half expecting a poignant vituperation and had a ready plea in his eyes. “it’s okay ,” she had said instead and smiled at him. She is about his height( 5,, pretty faced and had a dark shiny skin that glossed in sunlight. She looked smart in a navy blue two piece suit. The skirt, barely below the knees was tight revealing curves that made him swallow.
It was a hot Monday morning. The sun was naked, unclothed by the absent clouds. The sky itself was plain and pale, unsure of itself. Lagos was a cacophony of sounds; the revving of car engines, hissing of motor breaks, hooting of motorcycles, patronizing calls of go-slow hawkers advertising their wares and curses of despondent drivers all sewn seamlessly to give that repetitive annoying noise that was the Lagos traffic jam. Mike sat close to the window pretended to be distracted by the howling voice of a bus conductor that hung precariously at the back of a molue. The words painted on the bus, just above the conductor pricked him. It read in green illiterate Hausa writing ‘Guobe de nisa’ translated as ‘Tomorrow is far’.
2.

i love reading works that have a brilliant use of words and yours has that. you paint a really vivid picture. i m impressed. waiting for more

Thanks....

2.
He had been sitting beside her  for about thirty minutes and had only muttered a ‘hello, thanks for not being mad at me the other time’ to which she had replied “ no problem”. Her paucity of words is in itself inviting, encouraging him like a muted audience watching the frenzied dance of the village masquerade with keen interest, wanting him to do more to deserve their applause
Her phone rang , for a ringtone, came a deep throated rendition of the national anthem.
“Hello,” she said after retrieving it from her bag. Holding the phone with her
  right hand , her other hand stroked her hair repeatedly. Her hair is silky black and cascades freely down her neck only stopping on reaching the shoulders. The beam of
  sunlight
  occasionally catches it and it turns incandescent brown. This trick of reflection he had never seen and he wondered if she noticed him stealing looks at her . She must know. That has to be the reason she kept caressing it, for her hand shielded part of the hair from the rays and enhanced the contrast making him perpetually interested.
“Okay, no problem, will call as soon as I can.” She answered finally and returned the phone to her bag.
“Are you interested in something?” She interrupted his thoughts and
  he looked at her. Her brows were raised accentuating
  furrows that sat awkwardly on her forehead, which with the permanence of a smile bellied her attempt at feigning annoyance.
“Ooh,
  was just curious, your hair actually changes hue, does it?” he gabbled, his hand wiping off imaginary dirt from his jeans.
“It’s the Chameleon, a hair cream, it does this trick with sunlight.” She responded and took a closer look at
  him. He was fair complexioned, almost thin, won’t be described as handsome and had a distant look about him. He shifted uncomfortably on the seat and had even broken a sweat though the bus was air conditioned. She chuckled. She liked him. He reminded her of late uncle Amadi. Uncle Amadi, professor of English language with his huge goggles for glasses. He was fun to be with. The way he stuck his tongue at her every time, he had mastered the act of rolling his eyes at
 his feigned fits of convulsions. She laughed aloud at the thought of his Michael Jackson stunts, his parody of moon walking was actually marching backward while keeping a straight face with his
 eyes bulging.
“ Are you always this tensed?”
She was now laughing at him and even helped him clear some unseen dust from his trousers.
He smiled for the first time, relaxed and sighed.
“Was it obvious?” he enquired of her.
“ I noticed at least.”
“ Well, then I am Mike on my way to work. What should I call you?”
“ What should you call me?” she repeated as she looked away, her eyes fixated at a no smoking sign at the glass barrier behind the driver.
“ Do you smoke?” she asked abruptly.
The non-sequitur so unexpected unnerved him, he wondered if she shared a name with any of the cigarette brands or whether he should lie that he smoked.
“ Well, actually I do…..”
  and added “ not” as an afterthought.
“ I am Caro and I smoke, is that going to be a problem?” she asked matter-of-factly.
“ Not at all, my mum even smokes” he lied and hoped it sounded convincing.
Her lips were full, crimson coloured with a mole just above the left angle of her mouth. She wore a silver necklace with a basket pattern so delicately woven. His eyes followed it as it slopes gently down her neck like a twin river and confluence at the depths of a rift that was her cleavage. He looked away, shouldn’t be caught lingering. He wondered what became of the confluence sandwiched between two mounds of flesh. Of course it will survive, if the Niger river could survive all the mountain ranges of Guinea, this pendant, whatever it is will definitely survive.
“ Well , I am almost at my bus stop, do you want my number or not?”
That was actually why he seemed enchanted by her. Her confidence and untamed bluntness. In another life she must have been an Amazon. He quickly took her number and as if that act was a cue, the bus screeched to a stop and she alighted.
He watched as she walked past the bus stop to a taxi park while his bus collected more passengers. She entered a cab which snaked slowly out of the congested park and drove off.
It was Leventis and he looked lazily around. Traders of assorted items lined the walkway, haggled prices with commuters that couldn’t seem to make up their mind which was more important; their destinations or those over priced items. A long queue of would be passengers had been formed with associated bickering common to folks not used to queuing for anything. A man dressed in a neat suit and carrying an important looking bag walked over to the window and asked Mike for a hundred naira to enable him reach his destination.
Haba! He had actually given this particular man same amount of money just three days ago for same purpose. He is one the famous Lagos
executive beggars. They are everywhere, from Ojuelegba to Marina, Lekki to Ikeja. And there were the ubiquitous
Area boys , self acclaimed lords of Lagos with the roads as their fiefdoms. He caught sight of a shirtless man who sat at the roadside pavement. His face was bloodied and eyes puffy from heavy beatings while two
area boys hovered in front of him probably debating what next to do with him. Beggars are everywhere , Nigerian, Arabian and others of obscure descent with various shades of handicap. He saw a beggar raised his right hand and showed everyone his missing fifth finger. His only passport to begging!
Above all these flurry of activities were the skyscrapers, magnificently imposing in their daily contest to reach the sky, yet seemingly absurd in contrast with the beggars and shanties a stroll away. That is the Lagos he had come to know and love.
Two weeks has since passed, he called her severally and a meeting was finally arranged.
And here he was in an unfamiliar place and in an even more unfamiliar part of Lagos. He scanned every female face in the dim lit the club could provide, yet non bore semblance to her. He walked to the bar, ordered some punch and waited.
3.

;DCaptivating story-keep it coming.
Just a little note.u keep switching in your narrative voice from past to present tense which is a bit confusing. Like 'she is about his height','her paucity of words is in itself inviting','the beam of sunlight occassionally catches it'. Think your narrative should remain in the past tense since.

Brilliant description still.

My bad....will make necessary corrections...thanks for the comments

Something I will like to point out... In Hausa, tomorrow is far is written ''GOBE DA NISA'' while the one you used, ''tomorrow is too far'' is written ''Nisan gobe dayawa''....

By the way... Fully suscribed...

3.
He had been waiting for thirty minutes, had actually enjoyed watching other clubbers dance. One guy scratched his whole body with both hands while hopping on one leg after the other, the resemblance to an excited chimpanzee was not lost on him and he muffled a laughter. Then Caro walked in wearing a loose flowery blue gown that reached her shin. This was matched with a black belt and black leather boots. She walked straight to him, took him by the arm and led him to an official part of the building, away from the music and noise that sought comfort in each other, away from the merry makers.
The corridor was well lit, the floors were marbled mirrors and the walls had framed portraits of
  various important persons. Obama’s
  portrait was conspicuous with a gold emblem. His rabbit ears stood out as he smiled coyly away from them. She led him to a door marked
  ‘manager’, unlocked it and beckoned him in.
“ Please sit down, what can I offer
  you?” She asked
  ushering him to a comfortable couch while she reclined in another. The office was tastefully furnished with thick Arabian rugs, imported mahogany desk and a glass shelf containing several awards and medals. Vases containing exotic flowers were strategically located at the corners of the room. Cold Play’s Yellow played quietly from hidden woofers as waft of cold air from split units carried fragrance from the flowers to his nostril. He liked it here.
“ Nothing, really. I have had a glass too many.”
“ You seem anxious to see me, unlike your shy self, hope no problem?” She looked into his eyes expecting him to look hurriedly away, but he held her gaze and they fought a silent war. In the seconds it lasted, their pulses raced, breaths became heavier and body temperatures increased threatening to reach a suffocating crescendo until she looked away, happy and fulfilled even in defeat, for these battles are without victors or victims.
“ I missed you, I guess” his voice now baritone, seem awakened from its slumber that was it shaky, stuttering old self.
Mike stood up, moved toward her, held her face in his hands and told her he wanted to marry her.
“ Of course you won’t marry me, you don’t even know me” she was becoming angry, angry at herself for showing weakness and for hoping he meant what he said.
“ I know enough already.” He seemed sure of himself, his chest muscles bulged every time he spoke as if corroborating
  non verbally what his mouth meant.
“ I am an epileptic! have been on meds since high school, can you handle that?
“ I can take care of your medical bills, I work with a telecom firm, so money is no problem” he added, held her hands tightly and silently hoped she would accept him.
“ Ok, we will see about that” she answered and smiled at the comical sequence of events. Yet the chemistry was real.
“ I want to meet your parents today.” He told her bluntly, not mincing words in his new found voice. She was alarmed at the suddenness of things. She was used to being in control. With him, it’s different. She seem lost for words and just nodded as she stood up.
“ Why not tomorrow?” she asked, testing his conviction.
He stood up walked towards her, brought his face to hers and they shared a long, lingering kiss and he responded “ Tomorrow is too far”
They left the comfort of the office hand-in-hand, humming the song they had kissed to and re-entered
  the dancehall. As they made their way to the exit, Mike looked up at the dancing colours of the kaleidoscope and whispered into her ears while pointing upward.
“ Isn’t that beautiful?”
She looked up, froze momentarily, fell and her limbs jerked repeatedly while thick curds of saliva escaped her mouth as she had her first fit in twelve months.
The end

3.
He had been waiting for thirty minutes, had actually enjoyed watching other clubbers dance. One guy scratched his whole body with both hands while hopping on one leg after the other, the resemblance to an excited chimpanzee was not lost on him and he muffled a laughter. Then Caro walked in wearing a loose flowery blue gown that reached her shin. This was matched with a black belt and black leather boots. She walked straight to him, took him by the arm and led him to an official part of the building, away from the music and noise that sought comfort in each other, away from the merry makers.
The corridor was well lit, the floors were marbled mirrors and the walls had framed portraits of
  various important persons. Obama’s portrait was conspicuous with a gold emblem. His rabbit ears stood out as he smiled coyly away from them. She led him to a door marked
  ‘manager’, unlocked it and beckoned him in.
“ Please sit down, what can I offer you?” She asked and ushered him to a comfortable couch while she reclined in another. The office was tastefully furnished with thick Arabian rugs, imported mahogany desk and a glass shelf containing several awards and medals. Vases containing exotic flowers were strategically located at the corners of the room. Cold Play’s Yellow played quietly from hidden woofers as waft of cold air from split units carried fragrance from the flowers to his nostril. He liked it here.
“ Nothing, really. I have had a glass too many.”
“ You seem anxious to see me, unlike your shy self, hope no problem?” She looked into his eyes expecting him to look hurriedly away, but he held her gaze and they fought a silent war. In the seconds it lasted, their pulses raced, breaths became heavier and body temperatures increased threatening to reach a suffocating crescendo until she looked away, happy and fulfilled even in defeat, for these battles are without victors or victims.
“ I missed you, I guess” his voice now baritone, seem awakened from its slumber that was it shaky, stuttering old self.
Mike stood up, moved toward her, held her face in his hands and told her he wanted to marry her.
“ Of course you won’t marry me, you don’t even know me” she was becoming angry, angry at herself for showing weakness and for hoping he meant what he said.
“ I know enough already.” He seemed sure of himself, his chest muscles bulged every time he spoke as if corroborating
  non verbally what his mouth meant.
“ I am an epileptic! have been on meds since high school, can you handle that?
“ I can take care of your medical bills, I work with a telecom firm, so money is no problem” he added, held her hands tightly and silently hoped she would accept him.
“ Ok, we will see about that” she answered and smiled at the comical sequence of events. Yet the chemistry was real.
“ I want to meet your parents today.” He told her bluntly, not mincing words in his new found voice. She was alarmed at the suddenness of things. She was used to being in control. With him, it’s different. She seem lost for words and just nodded as she stood up.
“ Why not tomorrow?” she asked, testing his conviction.
He stood up walked towards her, brought his face to hers and they shared a long, lingering kiss and he responded “ Tomorrow is too far”
They left the comfort of the office hand-in-hand, humming the song they had kissed to and re-entered
  the dancehall. As they made their way to the exit, Mike looked up at the dancing colours of the kaleidoscope and whispered into her ears while pointing upward.
“ Isn’t that beautiful?”
She looked up, froze momentarily, fell and her limbs jerked repeatedly while thick curds of saliva escaped her mouth as she had her first fit in twelve months.
The end

The end?

Yes na....the tory has ended

BukkyDan: The end?