I came to my office one morning and saw a stranger sitting on the desk next to mine. She didn’t look like someone waiting to meet someone. She was comfortably seated in the chair and typing something on the computer stationed on the desk. I greeted, “Good morning and who are you?” She looked at me and smirked. “My name is Sandra,” she said, “But you can call me Sandy. You might be Francis?”

“Yeah, I’m Francis. How did you know about me?”

“I started working in this office a week ago. They told me you were on leave.”

That was the beginning of the friendship between me and Sandy. She was in her fifth year in marriage when we met. I was in my third. It was a very small office secluded from the main compound of the company. Nobody came around except the cleaners. We were in the world of our own.




Five months after Sandra’s arrival, we had a new colleague, Evans. He was assigned to our office. He too was married. Three married people trapped in a cubicle. All our conversations centered around our jobs and our married life. We discussed issues with a free mind and listened to each other with an open heart.

If last night’s sex with her husband didn’t go well, Sandy will come and discuss with us, “Can you imagine what your brother did last night? I was so tired and wanted to sleep but your brother wouldn’t let me so I opened up for..READ MORE..

Is that the end? Not a good way to end a curious script. Good write up