The feeling came again. Joseph looked at his co-workers and took his eyes away when one of them wanted to look at him. ‘Mr. Joe…’ A lady said and touched his cloth. ‘What?’ He shouted. He pulled back in his seat. Her touch was like an ember. He knew she touched him every time she came around. But he didn’t want that day. He looked at her eyes to be sure she had not seen it. ‘What’s wrong with you?’ The lady said as she shifted back. Her elegance could pass her as a model. And that’s what she can be. She can’t be what he wanted. Nothing in this world can be. And the only person that could be what he wanted was very far away from him. Or should he say he’s the one far from this person. ‘Leave me… Ah! I’ve been telling you over the week, you people should leave me’. The pure fear reflected on her face was a pure reflection of what was on his mind. He stood and headed for the toilet. His hair raised like warriors who had been given the go-ahead by their leaders to invade another village. They were watching, he knew. If only he had the ability to move at the speed of light. The moment he closed the door, Joseph repeatedly hit the wall with his fist. He had been cranky over little things the week. And he just couldn’t help it. He slapped his wife for the first time in his five years of marriage with her. He went to the basin. If he had a gun, he would end everything now. He swallowed hard. Tears poured down his face. He was just 33 years old. He washed his face. The mirror called his attention. His breathe came out faster than normal but he wasn’t concerned. The hair of his head was cutting off. He shook his head. He perspired. The water from the tap kept running. He shook his head. He should wash his face again. ‘Ah… God…’ He screamed and hit the basin.


http://nigerianwritershub.com/2016/02/15/the-new-tears/