.

~Pandora~:

She opened her eyes at 6am, the same time she always does. Her curtains were open, she liked to wake up with the sunshine on her face, not today though, it was raining outside. Pushing aside the covers, she got out of bed and headed for the bathroom, stripping along the way. As she stood there under the hot shower, she felt her body slowly awaken. A few minutes later she was dressed and ready to go. Grabbing her thermos from the kitchen, she walked out of the door.  Within the next hour, she would kill 3 men. . . . .

And now introducing HR hotness

Kill 3 men? Shivers down my spine, my goosepimples are having goosepimples

crazylegs:

Judging from your sense of imagination I'm dead sure I don't so I'll put you out of your misery. Crazylegs is an extremely daft crane from a cartoon series. I'm a bit daft, and like cartoons so . . .

Sisikill isn't a bad name either.

@crazylegs
Darn, she beat me to it. Been dyyyying to ask about it too. I used to think it had to do with your dancing skills! lol

Girls and our imagination. 

StephenP:

I don't know why peeps were arguing but I guess it's all cool now. Since some of you guys liked the first story, I decided to continue it.

Caution: This is R rated. Reader discretion is advised.


I was inside her. She bit her bottom lip in fixation of what was to come. She said that I knew her body more than anyone she had ever met. . . and I believed it. I took my time to find what made her arch her back and grab my skin. Sometimes she dug her nails into me unknowingly, but I didn’t complainI . . . liked it. I liked when she squeezed tighter and pulled me farther inside her, begging me to either quicken or slow the pace. She melted in my arms. Temperatures increased, positions were explored. I had entered a sinful heaven. I loved the look on her face, the pleasure in her eyes. I grabbed her hips and flipped her. Her head hung off the bed; her hands grabbed the sheets to prevent a fall. But it was inevitable, and I was wild. . .

Continued. . .

It felt like an earthquake, except I wasn’t afraid and I didn’t want to hide. Random objects flew off the nightstand. She had one leg on the TV Screen and the other leg slightly touching the corner of the bed. No matter the lustful madness occurring, I kept my focus and so did she. She was untamed, her heat brought sweat pouring down my body. She was unquenching, pure energy, pure fire. To me, this was both a blessing and a curse because though she was always ready and eager for me, I was not always the same for her. But let no mistakes be made, I was still the son of Zeus and her body treated me that way.

Different Drabble

Her mind was chaotic. I saw in her eyes that she loved me, but I also saw a mystery in her that I couldn’t unfold. It felt unsettling to know that she could be dangerous and without a scale of measurement I couldn’t prepare myself for her disaster. I felt it when she changed. I could feel it in her touch, in the way her eyes wandered off, in her blank stare comprised of empty emotions and burdensome thoughts. Constantly walking on eggshells, I would always wonder how I drove her into such a dark pit and why I always found myself there with her. It all drove me crazy, but I also saw her efforts to please me. She was always insistent on trying, asking about my well being and attempting to nurture me, but she had no idea what she was doing. I could see it was driving her insane. If only she realized that the only competition she had was the girl staring back at her in the mirror, then maybe . . .just maybe, she would relax and be herself. I wondered how long I would have to continue trying to convince her to let go her fears, and tell me everything. We were driving each other off the cliffs of sanity, but neither of us wanted to hit the brakes. No. Not yet. I would let go if I could . . . find another . . . but I loved her. In each of our reckless lives, we found common ground together. Apart we were a mess, together we were just as messy, yet somehow we had inner peace. Somehow, we were meant to be one.

StephenP:

Continued. . .

I was still the son of Zeus and her body treated me that way.

**fanning self** !!!

This has brought the STEAM back into the room!!

The second one was profound too, blast it! Is there nothing you CAN'T do? I hail!

Nice one bro

no wonder the ladies are all, ahem. . . inspired by you

Of couse we're inspired by him. . sexy, intelligent, mature, calm, and just so sexual. . .

good luck ladies

StephenP:

Different Drabble

Her mind was chaotic. I saw in her eyes that she loved me, but I also saw a mystery in her that I couldn’t unfold. It felt unsettling to know that she could be dangerous and without a scale of measurement I couldn’t prepare myself for her disaster. I felt it when she changed. I could feel it in her touch, in the way her eyes wandered off, in her blank stare comprised of empty emotions and burdensome thoughts. Constantly walking on eggshells, I would always wonder how I drove her into such a dark pit and why I always found myself there with her. It all drove me crazy, but I also saw her efforts to please me. She was always insistent on trying, asking about my well being and attempting to nurture me, but she had no idea what she was doing. I could see it was driving her insane. If only she realized that the only competition she had was the girl staring back at her in the mirror, then maybe . . .just maybe, she would relax and be herself. I wondered how long I would have to continue trying to convince her to let go her fears, and tell me everything. We were driving each other off the cliffs of sanity, but neither of us wanted to hit the brakes. No. Not yet. I would let go if I could . . . find another . . . but I loved her. In each of our reckless lives, we found common ground together. Apart we were a mess, together we were just as messy, yet somehow we had inner peace. Somehow, we were meant to be one.

I like that.

@maedan, LOL I hail you too. Your drabbles have been really nice.

@debosky, thanks. Let's stick to inspired [size=2pt] as opposed to amazed, thirsty and drooling [/size]

@mesmerized, I love you too.

@stillwater, thanks. I'm happy to like it.

StephenP:

@maedan, LOL I hail you too. Your drabbles have been really nice.

thanks! and for a guy, u write some nice, sensitive, deep stuff.

damn right i'm inspired! and PRESpired!!

StephenP:

@debosky, thanks. Let's stick to inspired [size=2pt] as opposed to amazed, thirsty and drooling [/size]

@mesmerized, I love you too.

hahaha, amazed, thirsty and drooling? hahaha, I guess we can go with that
Loff you too jare! keep up the good work

Mesmerize:

hahaha, amazed, thirsty and drooling? hahaha, I guess we can go with that
Loff you too jare! keep up the good work

LOL

stillwater:

And now introducing HR hotness

Kill 3 men? Shivers down my spine, my goosepimples are having goosepimples

StephenP:

I raised my glass to drink. I let it sit on the tips of my lips as my mind drifted into a jungle of my untamed thoughts. To the outside eye I lived a perfect life. I worked at a successful advertising firm and lived with my wife in a beautiful two-bedroom apartment on the upper west side of Manhattan. To the outside eyes we were a model of what many wished to have and looked upon in envy. All heads turned towards us whenever we were together at a social event. My hands always held on gently to her waist and her hands to mine, as if we were inseparable. Her beauty lit up any room and my charisma was just as igniting as her allure.

I tilted my hands to take a sip of my drink. The cold drink rushed down my lungs as the tears came flowing down my eyes. She was to blame as much as I was, but I took full responsibility. I absent mindedly lowered my hands and released the glass, but it missed the table and shattered upon the hardwood kitchen floor. The scene resembled a Shakespearian tragedy as the red wine made a river that flowed away from my feet and the shattered glass were like droplets of snow. Even my pain was a masterpiece.


To be continued.

continued

She walked in and allowed the silence to welcome her home. I remembered the days when we'd raced each other home. She usually won because her job was only 15 minutes away. Sometimes I would leave work early just to beat her home. The best part of my day was the exciting feeling I got right before opening the door because I knew she was on the other side with a pea coat on and nothing under. But now, it seemed like life had morphed into a strange darkness and no amount of light seemed to remove the gray. So many things were the catalyst - Life got harder, more demanding, schedules changed, problems rose out from the night and silence became our comfort. The love remained strong, but unused, waiting for time to heal the open wounds.

She entered quietly into the kitchen, she glanced at my shadow, but she kept her head moving in the same direction as her feet – towards the fridge. I sensed the silence bugged her because she asked, “How was your day babe?” but she received no reply, “ I was hoping you would make some of that spaghetti that I love or something like we agreed this morning cause I’m starving” she continued. I knew that she was secretly hoping that the silence would end, yet I spoke not one word or made any movement to acknowledge her presence or voice. In frustration, she slammed the fridge and walked towards me and started to yelling at me, telling me how upset she was about the way our marriage was going, telling me if I wanted her to leave I should tell her, after all the door was wide open.


definitely going to be continued

hmm, this is serious.

When people write like this, i get jealous.

i really wouldnt want to be put up on comparism.

Ride on people.

Tight.

ok, i dont want to be the bubble burster here

but we are deviating from the thread,

stephenp,lovely writeup, i dey beef you oo

but the essence of this is for a story to be

continued by another person, 100words

and let the other party play with the continuation

so lets start

Bello Legacy

Charles Dickens would say in his novel that "it was the best of times, it was the worst of times." Tayo Bello wouldn't agree with Dickens. Today was an average day at best. Not too bad, not too good. He had just returned from school as usual and saw the usual note on the table. His working mom scribbled it as she was in a hurry to get to work. She was going to be late again. She expected her only son to microwave the left over rice from last night when he gets hungry.

Tayo made a face after reading the note. Not left over rice again, he thought to himself. He was twelve when his father passed on. His father had died in action. The fact of the matter was that Mr Bello had unusual powers. He had been recruited by the pretty inefficient local police force with whom he put his ability to mimic the voice of a Stormfire god to good use. The armed robbers, armed potheads, armed psychos, armed whatever catch an immediate case of wobbly legs when Mr Bello put on his Stormfire god voice. They drop their weapons and run away. Mr Bello wasn't lucky on his last mission. The armed millitant's hand shook violently as he heard Mr Bello's voice. He hit the trigger in the process and the bullet went straight through the Man with the mighty voice. It didn't say anywhere that a Thunder Voice came with a side order of immortality. His wife and only son shed tears that could have drowned the town at the funeral. They got a mansion and a huge check from the government though. Their man had died a very honorable death.

Five years has passed and Tayo, still thinking about his dad, used the plastic spoon to pick the last grain of rice from the plastic plate. He wasn't interested in washing any dishes and his mother wasn't going to do it either. He looked up at the time. It was only 2:30pm. The interview was at five. He was about to graduate secondary school and the local police has offered him a job at the station. He didn't have his father's Stormfire god voice but he was six foot five and muscular enough to frighten most. Master Bello is very proud that he will be following in his father's footstep by joining the police. He would have to work very hard and avoid armed millitants with wobbly hands though.

Tayo got up from the dinning table. He went into his room to get dressed. It was only the beginning of the best of times and worst of times.

@all
100 words , eh

StephenP:

continued

She walked in and allowed the silence to welcome her home. I remembered the days when we'd raced each other home. She usually won because her job was only 15 minutes away. Sometimes I would leave work early just to beat her home. The best part of my day was the exciting feeling I got right before opening the door because I knew she was on the other side with a pea coat on and nothing under. But now, it seemed like life had morphed into a strange darkness and no amount of light seemed to remove the gray. So many things were the catalyst - Life got harder, more demanding, schedules changed, problems rose out from the night and silence became our comfort. The love remained strong, but unused, waiting for time to heal the open wounds.

She entered quietly into the kitchen, she glanced at my shadow, but she kept her head moving in the same direction as her feet – towards the fridge. I sensed the silence bugged her because she asked, “How was your day babe?” but she received no reply, “ I was hoping you would make some of that spaghetti that I love or something like we agreed this morning cause I’m starving” she continued. I knew that she was secretly hoping that the silence would end, yet I spoke not one word or made any movement to acknowledge her presence or voice. In frustration, she slammed the fridge and walked towards me and started to yelling at me, telling me how upset she was about the way our marriage was going, telling me if I wanted her to leave I should tell her, after all the door was wide open.


definitely going to be continued

Sorry I took too long . . .

She saw the red wine spilled on the floor and the broken glass all around me and for a moment it seemed she couldn’t breathe. She grabbed me and checked all around my skin, there was no cuts and no gushing blood, but my eyes were red and my cheeks were wet with tears.

She wiped away my tears with the handkerchief I bought for her last Valentine while she pushed her hair away from her face. “What’s wrong baby?” she asked repeatedly and I began to mumble. The more I tried to talk, the more the tears came flowing. “I’m sorry, I love you so much” I said to her as she placed her hands on my face as if to force me to look her in the eyes. “I love you too” she replied although she looked slightly confused on what I was sorry for. I began to rabble some more, “I slept with another woman, I . . . I . . . slept with another woman because I was angry. Some man constantly kept leaving messages on our answering machine saying that it was a pleasure having lunch with you and random shit like that so I snapped. I lost it and I slept with another woman and I’m sorry.” She trembled, her hands shook, my lips quivered as she lifted her hands to her mouth and gasped for air as if she was suffocating.

depressing

Finish up though!

Lol.

stillwater:

Lol.

it's funny? That's not the emotion I was aiming for.

TOH:

depressing

Finish up though!

will do

StephenP:

Sorry I took too long . . .

She saw the red wine spilled on the floor and the broken glass all around me and for a moment it seemed she couldn’t breathe. She grabbed me and checked all around my skin, there was no cuts and no gushing blood, but my eyes were red and my cheeks were wet with tears.

She wiped away my tears with the handkerchief I bought for her last Valentine while she pushed her hair away from her face. “What’s wrong baby?” she asked repeatedly and I began to mumble. The more I tried to talk, the more the tears came flowing. “I’m sorry, I love you so much” I said to her as she placed her hands on my face as if to force me to look her in the eyes. “I love you too” she replied although she looked slightly confused on what I was sorry for. I began to rabble some more, “I slept with another woman, I . . . I . . . slept with another woman because I was angry. Some man constantly kept leaving messages on our answering machine saying that it was a pleasure having lunch with you and random shit like that so I snapped. I lost it and I slept with another woman and I’m sorry.” She trembled, her hands shook, my lips quivered as she lifted her hands to her mouth and gasped for air as if she was suffocating.

To finish it,

Maybe she was because sometimes love can be suffocating. Loving someone to the point of insanity, loving to the point where logic is blinded by all possible emotions that is then pushed into a tiny box with a time bomb strapped to it. Wars have begun in the name of love, blood has been spilled in the name of love, crimes have been committed for the sake of love and now infidelity has been the product of this love.

She took her hands off my face while pushing my face to side. I wanted to beg her, beg her to forgive me and take me back, but I sat still crying in defeat. There are some things you can’t expect a woman to forgive and this was one of them. She walked away towards the kitchen cabinets and grabbed a towel. She returned but made no eye contact with me. She got on her knees and began to clean up the spilled wine and picked up the broken pieces. It was quiet again, and the only sounds in the house were those of her footsteps as she continued to clean up the kitchen.

She finally returned to me, still refusing to look me in the face, she gently pulled at her hand and slowly took the wedding ring off her finger and dropped it on my lap. My heart broke into pieces smaller than particles and I looked at her and saw that streams of tears had surfaced in her eyes, and was rolling down her cheeks and down her neck where it soaked into her blouse.

She left the house, but I did not run out after her. I remained there staring blankly into the wall, lost in a jungle of my untamed thoughts.

It’s beautiful outside and a well-preened Lucy steps out in the lobby. At 104, she had buried her four offsprings, the youngest died at age 75. Each of them had joined her in the nursing home and subsequently died leaving her behind.

“Hey Lucy, what are you up to today?

She gives John a toothless smile; he is one of the few who knew she was not senile.

A diagnosis of Alzheimer had been made based on her feigning the symptoms. Years on Broadway had not been wasted, she thought.

“I’m good, boy, I’m good,” she laughed inwardly, I am.

I rush franctically upstairs, placed the baby on the couch. “Oh…honey, wait for mo…, mmy” I managed. Dashed to the bathroom rummaging through the cabinets. It should be here, I thought. I could feel the tightening. I should have had one in my purse.
But I found none there. Jack’s giant must have ailed from what ails me, I thought, as I listen to myself.

Okay, stop, think, remember…
Yes, I left it in the bedroom.

Quickly, to the bedroom and there it was. Click. Prime. Click. Prime again.
Big breath in. “Puff”. Hold a while.

Aaaahhh. Heavenly relief from Albuterol

Mama rocked in her chair. Images of youth flashed before her eyes. “That could be me, or not” she thought; These days she’s unsure.

A small smile danced at the corners of her lips. Her eyes are misty.

Bunmi comes in with a man in a long white robe. “Alagba, for the past three months, mother has become worse, saying unbelievable things”.

Mama stared at them; no recognition.

“If I say nothing, I would do no wrong”, she thought.

“ Oh shlanga busta Kramer” Alagba chants, prancing around the room.


“Jeez, this one is crazier than I am” Mama smiled

The Dance

Rust-brown thick clouds, hovering almost tentatively in the skies before settling on rippled bodies glistening with sweat. Mad stomp of angry feet, rhythmic chants of sore palms, the reverberating ekwe blending beautifully with the shrill cries of the ogene, the men pulsed, their buttocks undulating to the sweet melody of Ichie’s song.

The women ogled, their breasts swinging pendulously to the frenzy of excited men, the old men smacked their gums and tried so hard to look uninterested.

“Ichie sings well”,

“Hmm”, Akwuekwue rinsed toothless gums with palmwine.

“He’s a charmer”, said one.

Ebechineme nodded his head slowly like an agama lizard . . . his walking stick tapped the parched earth, perhaps the sacred song would bring Amadioha’s blessings. Wasn’t that the reason for the dance in the first place?
Far far away from the madness, entranced in the magic pull of Ichie’s voice, the gods were watching.

I've been reading u guys' posts on my phone and was moved to post my drabble too.
       

          OTONDO      I sit staring in front of me. Its been 2 hours now, i look at my wristwatch to confirm that. Everyother person seems to have something to write. I look at my answer script again, flip through the blank pages, they are all blank pages. I feel like crying. My eyes actually well up with tears. I just confirmed i'm not as smart as i thought. I'm not as smart as anyone thought.
      I,  Something struck me. The application  of Schroedinger's equation to the perturbation theory. My pen sruck the paper for the first time in 3 hours. I could not write anything for i couldn't even remember where h-cross was and where planck's constant was. I was sweating profusely
      I was confused. Though i sat at the back and it would take some time before the invigilator got to me,
      'Stop writing and submit'
      Yeah i just handed myself a second extra year.

@profmutant
LMAO! Nice one.

God! Brings back to many awful memories of brain freeze at the worst time.

The moment you submit your paper, everything comes rushing back.

I was actually expecting to be yabbed till eternity. Heard u guys brandishing ur CVs as u fought one ant some time ago and i actually feel like an amateur that i am. There was a drabble i wrote about 5 years ago that i saw at home in April. I'm still trying to remember it. It has the sisikill taste to it. I promise to let u guys have it soon.