₦airaland Forum

pmc01:
Present... Carry go!

Thank you sir

peacefulpeace2:
Interesting story I wish he can complete it. Bravo!!!!

Thanks ma. I will work on that

Bigajeff:
Whole Soyinka started like this.. Keep it up

Thank you sir

CHAPTER 3

I dialed the dry cleaner's number which was written on the wall of his shop, it rang and he did not pick. I tried again and again, each ringing but he was not picking. I was getting frustrated. It was around 10:30AM.

A call came in, it was from Alex. Alex is one of my colleagues at the office. In fact, he was my closest guy, my paddy.

"Guy, where you dey?", he asked with an anger in his voice.

"I go change my clothes. You know say the other one stain. The dry cleaner wey I give my shirts and trousers to iron no dey"

"I no understand. Wetin you mean say him no dey?"

"I dey the yeye guy shop now. I been explain give am say I need the clothes sharp o. Him say him go do am sharp. Now, I dey for the front of him shop, him shop close and him no dey pick my calls"

He sighed, "Guy do quick. The guests don show and Oga dey ask of you. The man just dey frown give our unit members"

He hung up. I went to ask the lady at the neighboring shop if she knew when the dry cleaner went to or if he left some ironed clothes with her, she said she didn't know where he went to and that he didn't leave any clothes with him.

I was getting tensed up. I was angry and frustrated. Angry at the dry cleaner, angry at the foolish arrogant fellow that splashed muddy water on me, angry at the bike man for stopping me at the other side of the road, angry at that good for nothing bird that defaecated on my shirt, angry at Oga Olu for missing work today, angry at the ever slothful NEPA, angry at myself too.

My phone was ringing. I looked at the caller I.D, it was Oga Morris, my boss. My hands trembled. I was debating intensely within me whether to pick the call or not. The ringing stopped. It started again. I didn't pick.

It was now 11AM and this annoying dry cleaner was no where to be seen and still, he was not picking my calls. If I was not mistakened, I must have called him close to fourthy times. I even asked of his residential address but none said they knew his place.

A text came into my phone. I opened to see it, it was from my boss. Where are you?, was the message. It was now 11:15AM.

As I stared at the screen, a bike stopped suddenly in front of me. That got me annoyed. What was that? Why would one drive so rough and of places to stop, he chose to stop in front of me?

As I raised my head, guess who it was. The dry cleaner guy. He didn't even act as if he took notice of me. He went forward, unlocked his shop, brought out my clothes and handed them over to me.

"Sorry", he said.

I wanted to strangle him. I wanted to yell at him at the top of my voice. I wanted to deal with him but I did none of this. I was evidently angry at him but when I saw his eyes with tears every atom of anger I had left.

"Oga wetin happen?"

"Bros, no vex. Abeg, no vex. My wife dey labor since two days now and dem been call me for hospital say make I come sharp sharp say the thing don tough"

I felt bad for him but I needed to go. I was still feeling sorry for him but I was already so late. What pain would make a grown up man shed tears publicly before a stranger? I told him sorry and handed his money to him but he refused collecting it. He said I shouldn't bother that he was the one who was at fault for keeping me waiting. I had no time to insist that he took the money.

So, I went into his shop and got dressed fast and took a bike to my house to put on my shoes and get my bag and headed on the same bike to the office. By the time, I got to the office, it was already 11:45AM with the useless hold up and some uniformed men asking bike men and drivers of papers.

My boss saw me and ignored me. His face was so folded. Anger sat visibly on it and his eyes looked fiery and red to me. I couldn't look at him or speak.

What happening today, I asked myself again. Am I going to lose my job? Will I survive today?

Please, I need comments. I would greatly appreciate if I get some. Thank you

CHAPTER 2

My boss just walked in. He was dressed in a black suit with a bow tie. I wondered why he had to put on a bow tie on such a hot morning (the sun had risen with an early morning heat. Was he planning on choking himself?). Looking at him, you would kniw that he has a thing for corporate dressing.

He nodded to everyone's greeting except mine, rather he had a frown on his face. I wondered why. Maybe, it was my shirt. I had tried wiping off the stain from the bird's faeces but it had left some stains- a more wider one with lesser intensity.

"Some officials will be coming from the Department of Statistics of the Ministry of Finance and you will be giving them a little talk since you assist Mr. Olu, the head of statistics unit", he said.

"But sir, I am not..."

"Prepared?", he cut in. "I would have informed you earlier?"

I stared at him

"I was not prepared too. I was just informed this morning. So get yourself ready, and put on something good. They will be here by 11AM".

He turned and left. My heart began to pound. I was more of a side line person not a front line kind. I would prefer to sit and hear others give addresses than to be the one doing that. Though, I knew that I am an intelligent person but my shyness was something else.

I was not liking how today was going so far. Now, my boss seemed to have set me up for an address even though I was an assistant head to statistics unit.

Why under God's good heavens did Oga Olu, our head of the unit did not come to work today? Missing work on Monday, of all days? Who does that for crying out loud? I didn't even ask my boss why Oga Olu (as we under his unit usually call him) was not at work. I dialled his number but it was off. I hope he is alright, I asked myself.

I rushed home to do something about my dressing. I had done my washing but was yet to iron my shirts and trousers. Of course, it was NEPA that was behind that. NEPA would always be NEPA even if they change their name to PHCN. As I got home, they had not brought the light.

I decided to wait for some time in case they restore the power, after which I thought I should get two shirts and trousers to the dry cleaner across the street to work on instead.

We greeted and I explained to him the urgent need to iron the clothes. He said he understood and would start with mine as soon as he finished the one he was ironing for the customer waiting for him at the shop.

So, I decided to go home, do some reading and freshen up for the speech or address. I wouldn't want to go out there and be talking rubbish. My boss would kill me if I do that and it would deal badly with my chance of getting the promotion I had been hoping for.

Moments later, I went to the dry cleaners shop and there I experienced another unfortunate situation. Oh Lord, what's happening today? My forehead squeezed out thick drops of sweat.

CHAPTER 1

My ears picked up the sound of the alarm clock on my phone. I felt betrayed. Why in God's name would my ears have done that- distracting me from a wonderful experience I was having in dream land?

I am one of those lovers of food. We seemed to have a special connection- food and I. I would eat at any opportunity even to the point of eating in my dreams. And that was what I was doing before my betrayer of an alarm messed up the whole thing.

Maybe I should give you a glimpse of the dream I was having. I found myself seated before a delightful looking egusi soup and pounded yam in an exquisitely furnished restaurant. The aroma of the food wafted into my nostrils. Such aroma could bring a dead man back to life. I had just murmured a very short prayer with my eyes open and my mouth salivating and very ready to begin the business of leveling the mountain before me and then, this annoying alarm rang, and my ears that would not stay put in its environment decided to pick up the sound from outside the dream land.

I turned to my left hand side with the plan to put the alarm to snooze mode, and almost immediately, I remembered that I was supposed to be at the office by 7:30AM. I frowned at the screen of my phone, I reached for my singlet to wear and then whispered some prayers before going to the bathroom for clean up.

Moments later, I was standing at my junction to wave down a bike. A young Hausa fellow stopped in front of me, after negotiating the fare, I boarded to my office. This day better be a good one, I thought as I looked at my wrist watch. It was 7:15AM. I hated near success syndrome. I was near eating such a delicious meal which I had not had for a long while because I simply could not afford it, and then I awoke. Almost but without it. That was bad.

Just as soon as I got down from the bike after reaching my destination and paying the bike man, as I was just turning, I felt my legs wet. An arrogant and terribly annoying person driving and blasting music loudly had just splashed me muddy water. And he did not even stop. I felt like having combined super human powers of Flash and Superman (Clark Kent), to go after him and pull him out of his car and punch him severally and then drag him out and soak him in the mud.

I pulled out my handkerchief, wiped off some of the mud water and then headed to the office to register and also use the rest room to do more wiping. Just as I was about to walk in, something semi solid fell on my white shirt.

What?, I groaned. A bird's feaces? I turned my face up and the bird was busy singing away as it flew. I cursed under my breath, what is all these? Are these series of unfortunate events? Starting from the uncompleted dream, to the splashing of mud on my trouser and then a bird's feaces on my shirt?

I spent some time in the bathroom to clean myself, after I had registered my name. As if these events that have produced the feeling of anger in me had not had enough, another one happened.

SYNOPSIS

Traveling has always been one of the sweetest experiences for me, especially when I take a night journey in one of those almost new Marcapolo luxurious buses.

But one journey changed my whole positive idea of traveling. Just one incident. As small as it was, it caused a profound change in my mind.

And the cause? Food. Yes, food. I am Samson Omafe, I am sure you didn't know until now, and I am twenty five years old and work for an insurance firm.

I have been reading the works of some of the best minds in Nairaland. I shall mention some.
Ogas LarrySun, DivenPen, Oyinprince; Madams Repogirl,Fiyah,Safarigirl,Shewrites,AudreyTimms, and others... thank you for writing beautifully. There are others whose name I do not have on my mind at the moment, nevertheless, they are also gifted writers whose works I have read.

I have been reading the works of some of the best minds in Nairaland. I shall mention some.
Ogas LarrySun, DivenPen, OyinprMadams Repogirl,Fiyah,Safarigirl,Shewrites,AudreyTimms, and others... thank you for writing beautifully. There are others whose name I do not have on my mind at the moment, nevertheless, they are also gifted writers whose works I have read.

This is a short story that I wrote. I am still learning to write and I am not making so fast a progress. But I would need your comments- commendations and positive criticisms. Positive o. Abeg make person no kill me with typoweapons...
Thank you

Wow...you are an amazing writer..

Nice work man. kudos!

You are an amazing writer

Wow..ghosto...you are a great writer

The Green Politician

He sets his face before a photographer and smiles
A smile does the job, he was told
Posters of him flood the streets, and funny chaps sing his name
He turns his mouth into an instrument of music, blowing out Melodies of strange promises which he found amusing that the people end up believing
He is a gamer, he must play with the mind of the people
Chose me, vote for me, he would sing
And act with the meekness of a sheep and the innocence of a lamb
And he watches as the people thumb for him, giving him what he desired
He takes on his real self- proud, uncaring, crafty
He thinks he needs to balance the account, reap what he spent and even more
Choice clothes, big houses, exquisite cars, foreign accounts
Falsified figures and talks of works being done, surrounded by sycophants
The people groan, they grief. They had put a con man on the throne
He plays the game as he wants and then towards the beginning of another voting season
He unclothes his real self and clads in his drama regalia
Time to act again, he muses and deceive these simple minded folks
And the people get confused because he came bearing gifts and crying with sympathy
And promises to do better.
Beware green fellows of green politicians, their gods are their bellies
With tools of religion, tribalism and party groups, they deceive again
Beware of who and what you thump for
It might be your gain or your pain.

You are a gifted writer... I am really enjoying your work..

You are a superb writer man...kudos and thumps up!

Hello Peeps, this is a very short work. If a work is to be called 'shortee', it should be this. But I need you guys to read it. Make your reviews and offer comments. Yes, I need comments...you can punch me with some, no shaking... but comment...
Many thanks to those who read my last work- Something New, especially the 'ghost readers crew'. I throway salute for Una camp o....please make Una 'de-ghost' Una reading small...
Having said these, I will let you read before I now say something that will make someone get angry and refuse to read....
Enjoy!...


It has been close to a year, more like eight months or so since he left his last relationship. He was surprised that it had taken that long. At first, he counted in minutes, feeling that the time was dragging since the time on his phone was acting slow and funny. But the funny attitude was not strong enough to put a laughter in him. He had forgotten when last he laughed. It seemed like he was now the new frown god.

He felt dark and gloomy and had depression for a close paddy. It seemed as if these three and all like them were his default feelings. He would sleep with them and wake up with them. They had mounted his emotional gate and hindered any form of happiness or excitement from getting in.

He hung his head like some electric wires hang loose from some NEPA poles. At least for those ones, the members of the neighborhood would call the NEPA officials to come and fix them, "Make dem repair am before the thing kee person". It was as if gravity took a toll on his head and decided to do a master job on it. Down it went all day long.

But he was not interested in getting repaired. He liked his new self. He wanted to stay cold, dark and depressed. He didn't want anyone to fix him. He just wanted to be left alone. It made him have a 'me against the world' feeling. Like one that the whole human race rose to maltreat, someone persecuted for no cause.

He discovered a new way to spend his time and use his mind. He would sit still with his hanging head and his eyes dark, and brood over the whole event. The event of the break up, from when the kick off whistle was blown by the 'umpire of break up matches' till when the final whistle was blown.

He seemed to like his pain- the resultant feeling and condition of mind that the event created in him. He would replay the video of that very event again and again, just to revive and keep that feeling running. He had it on the repeat button.

Oh, he needed a pity party. Oh, someone should just say sorry. Someone should just tell him, "that's how these ladies behave". He needed to hear that. It would have helped. He wanted to feel innocent. It would help him not pity himself, a sign of a cheap value she had put on him, but feel it was not his fault, that he was not a cheap guy that would descend and act in such poor way. Can someone say something? And yet, he must act in a way that would avoid him looking like someone at the mercy of what someone has to say. He didn't want to act as if he was in need. No need to beg. In fact, if someone had even told him that he was clean and faultless and innocent, he would just show no emotions whatsoever.

"Humans? They just want to act like little gods and when they sense that their act or word had a 'saving' effect on another, they would just pull out their pocket trumpets, polish them and go up and down blowing them for all to hear", he muttered to himself.

After replaying the video of the event, he would set a panel of analysts in the studio of his mind, and begin to analyze it. Not analysts other than himself. Just himself in different versions. His spiritual self- that has a Bible verse or two to quote, his emotional self- who has stuffs to feel, his logical and blaming self- who traces events that led to his heartbreak and points a long finger at him and whispers, "I told you", his angry self- who would boil and steam off, and then he- his own self or whatever that means that would do the job of throwing out the questions from his box of many questions and also serve as the judge.

Why did she leave him? What did she even say that was her reason? Oh, he had forgotten. Then he would make an attempt to recall. It was typical. Bend his head, arch his brow, and take a quick flight to the past to memory land. Again? Nothing? You mean, I couldn't get any reason from all she said? What? I think I might be missing something. Let's check again. And he would repeat the mental journey again and end up with same results.

Well, he wasn't really listening to her. He just kept his ears there. And let his mind switch off. They say, we hear with our ears but listen with our mind. He knew the purpose of the meeting but he hated himself for thinking that that was the purpose of the meeting.

"Stop being uselessly and negatively smart. ITK", he coldly told himself. "It may not be what you think".

So, when they sat, and he asked her, just an attempt to be polite and maybe make her change her mind and forget the topic she had intended them to discuss, if she would like to take anything as refreshment, and she said no. Soft drink? No, was the answer. What of water? No. Same answer. It send cold shivers down his spine.

"Bros" his negative sided brain, the side with the minus(-) sign at the end said to him, "Shebi I tell you?"

Then when she opened her mouth after he had tried to crack some jokes to lighten up the atmosphere around them to no avail, started to talk, he switched off. NEPA don take light? His mind went dark in a broad day afternoon. His positive sided brain was behind it. It had ran and turned off the switch. No light.

He wasn't listening. It was bad news. No time for bad news.
"Guard your heart diligently...", he had read in his Bible. He was here to practice it. He wasn't here to listen to such news. Wicked news. It would make his head pound later and sent migraine at the speed of light into his brain cells. Since, it would seem rude for him to walk out of her or have that such act counted as an act of cowardice (in his own head), he sat still.and switched off his mind. "Not now", he told himself, "Not now. Be interested in your personal happiness "

"Personal happiness? Who is talking of happiness when such news is being broadcasted? That kind of news creates a mountain of sadness and takes breakers to the walls of the heart and shatters the heart, grinds it to dust and employs and asks for the wind to blow it far out to the four corners of the earth", his negative and pessimistic side of the brain texted him. The message indicated delivered. He began to have uneven breaths and gasp for air codedly. He must not fall his hand before this gal. She was not shaken by his reactions.

"Hard thing", he cursed her inwardly

He tried to listen to her again. Why was he even attempting on that? Oh, he remembered. He needed to give feedback. If he was to argue and push for them to still stay together, he must at least have to speak intelligently and close to the ideas of what she had communicated. He would then use some of her words, especially the positive ones and bend some to favour his case. At the end, it would seem to her that they were really dealing with a little stuff that wouldn't require a break up.

But his mind went AWOL. Where is these guys (referring to his mental ears)? But he did not search long when she heard her say, "That's all I have to say and I cannot change my mind under any condition. I have to go because I don't want you to say anything about this. Let's just end it here and now"

She was really leaving him. Oh boy! Bad stuff. Big bad. He wanted to say something. The anger department of his brain wanted to yell and say, "You cold blooded being....", but his mouth acted like an ATM machine that just finished counting cash and ended up dispensing none. He was silent. Why was he silent? This was not what he wanted. Why was his mouth failing him.

She stared at him, "I am leaving". And rose up and walked out. He sat perplexed. What a show? What a break up?

Ok...back to now. He just did a flash back. He laughed at himself. Here he is, about to make another attempt on another lady. Love things creeping up but trust him...he wanted to it better this time.

The END!

CHAPTER 5
Love things and More

This is supposed to be a short story. Is that not what you told us? Yes, it is, this is my last chapter. We can just get ourselves ready to wave goodbyes. And you must have read the title, if not abeg, backslide like Michael Jackson go read am.

Love? What love? Who cares about that these days? I don't believe in love? What does he want to say about love?

OK...cool down. Whatever it is that you believe in is your own business. This is not a romance work, so it lacks the classic love tales or lines you might expect. No be Romeo and Juliet kind of stuff. But love dey inside the gist sha and also 'more'. If you have a problem with the 'love things' part, don't jump it please, the gulf is wide. Just keep reading till you get to the 'more' part and read to 'the END'. Having said that and settled all the civil wars, permit me to pilot the story and please fasten your seat belt because harmattan wind fit blow you comot.

I was writing my GCE at Government Secondary School, close to Airport in Abuja. It was a big school, much bigger than my private school. The exam was to last for almost three weeks. My first paper was on the subject, Geography. I wrote fast and as accurately as I could and finished soon enough (amazingly, I got A1 in this subject). I had to wait outside afterwards, I had arrived there that morning and knew no one neither had my parents made any initial arrangements for where I would stay. Dad said he would come. Time was going, the sun had began her journey towards the west, the day was getting darker, yet Dad was not there.

I was not bothered. It was my first time alone away from home. I felt it was an adventure. I had been so respectful to the security man of the school- he and his colleague. I told them afterwards of of my situation, they agreed to help, that I should sleep in the security lodge with them. I did a little reading, I had already done lots of reading. I woke up early, took my bath, got cleaned up and left for the exams hall. But Dad went home and gave Mum another gist. He told her that he had seen me, that I was fine and that he had secured a place for me to stay.

But Mum later got the true gist via sleep- talking. Dad was sleep- talking. What? Yes. I am sure you know what sleep- talking is. Most Nigerian parents, especially the male folks practice this. But no mind me o, my blood dey hot me and I wan flash my intelligent brain give you definition on sleep- talking. Dictionary and definition apps in my brain, loading!! So, are you ready? Grab your pen and notepad and write. Sleep- talking is the art or science abi na practice of talking while sleeping. Should I give more definitions, my brain asked. This is enough, lets give an example of a person that does that, was my reply. Dad was a practitioner of sleep- talking. Boy, he confessed all. Mum smiled at him in the morning, "I heard everything". He told her he needed to fix the issue. He got me to stay with a young teacher, who was a graduate- a biochemistry graduate of University of Nigeria, Nsukka.

My return after the exams got me back into the normal school activities. My principal had known about the exams. And had 'proudly' told almost everyone about it as if he was the one that bought me the form and did all the necessities. Soon, I became a mini- celebrity in school. But I was a closed kind of person, a 'mind my business' sort of a fellow and shy in a way.

I told you about Mandy a little. My friend B- face was really hustling the babe. But the gal no dey give am the kind green light wey him want. I think na orange light abi na brown light, she dey give the guy.

"She will come around" the Romeo wanna be told me, "she just needs time". I nodded. It was easier for him to say that, even though he was hiding his fear that she might not be with him. He was a good looking guy, you know and he was 'cashy'- he was one of the big boys in school with money. He was a great dresser, with multiple school uniforms and seemed to wear them based on some timetable he had drawn. He would pour himself perfume, your nose could send a SMS to your brain swiftly of his presence. Then, I never even know how far with perfumes. He was also intelligent. With all these in his CV, he sure was the man to land the job of 'boyfriending' Mandy.

I minded my business and once in a while looked her way, and she would response. Then she became a regular visitor, often visiting my seat, which I was sharing with B-face, to request me to help her solve a problem- a question on Physics, or Chemistry or Mathematics. Or to explain some stuffs she had read and not understood. Soon, she began sitting with me, even after the explanations and would even stay back after school to read, asking me to wait around for her. My friend got sour. He began acting strange towards me. I was now loosing him. He began to avoid 'cool' conversations with me and would respond to me in monosyllables.

What was it? I knew what was going on, he was getting envious. I was the guy he had asked a year ago or so to help him 'close the deal' on Mandy and get her to like him and accept him as a good guy and a 'boyfriend material'. I was still working. I was telling her of all the good stuffs about B-face. The true ones and the fabricated ones. I needed to paint him good before her. But she would converse along that like one who had a fish bone stuck on his throat would talk till he gets it out of his throat. As soon as she saw a way out of the lane of conversation, be it a turn to a side street, a U-turn, she would take it with all of her and drive the conversation on talking about me. Well, there wasn't much to talk about me. I was just one simple guy.

But I must confess, I began to like it. The smile that lights up on her face when she talks about me could light a whole city and put NEPA out of town. I liked it. Moreover, I was that guy that nobody really wanted to talk about 'him', to know what's up with him or what. I felt wanted. I felt needed. I felt someone interested in me not my knowledge or intelligence but me. She made me feel needed. It felt good and my heart began to crave for her.

I was not going to betray my friend. I needed to 'brake' my emotions. I was not going to loose my friend by acting Judas, betraying him. He wanted her, at least he made it known to me first that he wanted her. At this time of writing, a song just got playing in my mind. If There is Any Justice by Lemar.....

"If there's any justice in the world
I will be your man, and you will be my girl
If I met your first, you know it's true
He will be alone, and I will be with you..."

I began to stay away from her. I went to my friend and apologize for offending him in any way he felt I was. I did not mention any sha. He was glad I did, and I asked him to go after her. I would excuse myself when she comes to sit with us atas soon as I turn the conversation between her and B- face on. She noticed that I was avoiding her,meanwhile my heart was hungry for her. She was like a flame in me. She began to avoid my friend too and he got so frustrated and needed to blame someone. Guess who he picked to blame? Me! Yes! Innocent me.

"May I borrow you Ababio Chemistry text book?" Mandy asked me. Her eyes were filled with desire for me. It was mutual and I was not planning to do a thing about it. I was going to starve that desire and let it die.

"Sure" was my reply.

She got it back to me as soon as school closed. She knew I read my books daily especially the sciences. "Escort me" she pleaded. I looked at my friend since he was standing close, she grabbed my hand and dragged me off, leaving him standing. And I saw the 'war time declaration' written on his face.

Mandy!!! She was one of those rare beauties among women. A very fair skinned girl whose skin shorn as though she was bearing the sun within her. She has those white eyes with light brown balls in them. Her skin was smooth and polished and 'warm' to the eyes. Her smile could make the moon smile back and make the spirit of frowning giggle. Her legs were straight, her thighs too and her bosom was an art work and her backside was a delightful sight. She was a beauty to behold. And she was damn intelligent.

"B-face...." I started
"Stop it!" She quietly barked with anger flames in her eyes, looking at me. "Stop it please" the tone of her voice had changed. "I don't like him. I don't want him. Please stop talking about him around me" I was quiet. Wow! This is now scary, I thought.

I got home, did some domestic works as usual and sat down to read later at night. Something in me wanted me to start with Chemistry. I obliged and turned the pages,only to see a letter in Mandy's writing.

"....I am always different when I am around you. You are a nice person and you bring out the best in me. I know we have a connection. I know you feel it, the way to look at me, the way you 'carry' me delicately. You can tell me how you feel about me, I will like to hear it from you, please...."

Oh boy...na love letter be that o. See show o. See groove! Meanwhile, those of you that have not reached the 'romantic age' should better skip that side of this chapter, because if I catch you reading that letter it ehn....yawa go gas o, plus other things wey go gas. After reading my heart got warm and skipped. This experience was becoming a common experience for me...this increase in the temperature of my heart, and it happens whenever I thought about her. I couldn't wait for the next day to come.

I landed late as usual. I was not the 'boss student'. She was sitting on her seat, I and B-face was sitting on ours. His face had been looking as if it was made with stones, sand, iron rods and Dangote cement. It was like German floor. No smile, no laughter...just frown. Even the spirit of frowning felt threatened by looking at his face, and might have feared that someone was about to render him(the spirit of frowning) jobless. I maintained my cool and saw her stare at me from the corners of her eyes.

I avoided her all through. It was the plan. I needed to be sure 'again' of my heart and feelings. B- face was getting high and first class rejection from her. She was not even sparing him a stare, not a look, not a conversation, not even staying around him or letting him stay around her. After school, I asked her to wait. We meet and talked and I flooded her with my heart and all that is within it. I told her of the effect she had on me the first time I met her and all along. She was in tears,and would laugh in between. It was a strange kind of laughter, it made my soul rise within me. I won't tell you the rest of the gist of that day. It was a memorable day. It began our journey in love and it was like some heavens on earth. Days turned to weeks and weeks, slowly grew up to months. And all through we loved deeper and in greater measure and in case you are thinking, we had no sex. Yes, no sex. Premarital sex was not it.

But I lost my friend when love found me. I lost B-face. He felt I had betrayed him, that why should I have to go after Mandy even though I knew he was interested in her, that I should have gone for another girl. We had a breakout. It was bad.

"Judas. Bloody Judas. That's what you are. How could you? How? Selfish person. Kill joy..."

"You don't understand..."

"Tell that to the wind, betrayer. I trusted you and you betrayed me..."
"Stop saying shit" I barked. And discovered my jaws having a different sensation from other parts of my body. Pain. He had struck me a blow on my right jaw. He was so angry and got physical. I backed out. "Boy! I won't fight you"

"Weakling. Fight me na. Fight na lover boy. And you will see what I will do to you..."

I walked away. My jaw was painful and was getting swollen. Mandy had been waiting for me. I had asked her to wait for me, that B-face wanted to see me and that I would be back. She looked at my face and gasped, "he hit you"

"It was not his fault. He was angry"

"I hate him more for doing this to you"

"Don't do that. You are a Christian..."

"Stop it Darling. Not everyone is as good as you are. Most people are just wicked. Your good heart is your greatest weakness"

She looked downcast, tears began to drop. I drew her close, "its OK. I am fine and I am here with you. We both knew that this would happen. Its the least I can do to be with you. And I ain't leaving you. You are my home dear"

She looked up into my eyes, "I love you" she whispered.

"I love you too, Sweetheart"

The END

Merry Christmas all...

Wow!!...I just 'discovered' you, Audrey...you are such an amazing writer. Your descriptive skill is powerful, your ability to drag your tales lovingly is superb. Kudos!

lacasera14:
Nice plot and suspense, but i think the title is a misnomer. At first i thought it was a poem or something similar. And your descriptions were very short, try and give a detailed description of characters, events, people and places next time. You we're kinda harsh on your readers with their impatience, like telling them to abandon the story if they can't wait, you should know nairalanders by now, they just can't wait to eat up an interesting piece when they see one try and be a little civil with your replies. learn from Audrey timms she's great with literature yet humble as dove. I expect you to attack me for this comment but I won't budge. If you wanna go far be humble and endure your audience.

Wooww...interesting... I must assume you are some Chinua Achebe...anyway I checked your profile, hoping to see stories...

Amazing!!!

Men and brethren, your bros ink don finish and my phone screen dey purge and my laptop buttons dey run temperature. Dem doctors say na one medicine wey the name be "Comments- to motivate, encourage and criticize constructively" go cure all these them sicknesses.
Oh boy, I was feeling it- guilt, though it was junior guilt sha. Had I been commenting on other people's stories that I had read?...ehn, just above a few. I had to go back and be dropping them comments left, right and center, anywhere and anyhow.
Please, biko, dan Allah, I beseech thee, please comment o...please. I owe you all Christmas vacation to Afghanistan and Iraq and Libya...? Uh oh, did I just say Libya...Ah! No vex o, Na ma screen o..abeg drop comments.
GOD bless ya'all

You are an amazing writer Angels...kudos!