₦airaland Forum

Short and Bittersweet. Captivating story. I'm guessing 'she' loved 'her'.

Ayokunlemi96:
Sir, this is a great work you...
...consequence for which Bisi is. I shall stop here.

Please mention me on your next update.

Your favorable words fill me with warmth.
I too read Lord of the Flies, though at the time I was a year too young to fully grasp the underlying tone and over arching theme. I was a kid reading from word to word for a book report.

I find I do get carried away with the vivid descriptions. If it was a proper book I probably wouldn't adopt such a style but, I guess i'm just having fun

Good insight on the work. The story was also me practicing character development, being able to have their decisions and interactions allow the reader pin point what kind of person they are without having to state literally that Zainab is a controlling person or Namdi seems to have little to no control or Bisi is ... and keeping the character consistent and their decisions in line with... Though far from perfect, from this I think I had a little success (we are the sum of our decisions). Thanks for commenting

Anyway, between 2-10 chapters left. More likely 2 than 10

Life is a circle. Once completed, it is up to memories to render one infinite

BISI - THE OTHER WOMAN 48

Down the stairs and through the hall, the past his guide. He flung the door open, revealing a curtain of water and a world darker than the inkiness within. Namdi watched it fall, a one way trip from the heavens to the brown of the earth. Holding the glass, he tilted the wine bottle till the cup overflowed. It splashed onto the floor disappearing into the thirst driven dead wood. Half of its content still remained within the bottle. His hand held steady, the turbulent red sea becoming a flat surface. The calm did not match the torrent in front of him. A finger dipped, making contact with the still surface ever so slightly. Ripples spread from whence he touched, breaking the calm into growing red rings escaping his influence. The glass smashed against the wall, wine dribbling, painting the falling rain in crimson. The bottle met his lips as he drank deeply. It flowed down his throat, warming him with a spiciness he was unfamiliar with. Not giving it a second thought he flung the nearly empty bottle to the rain in offering and ran for his car without ever looking back. He hastened away from the house, his grey world slowly filling with color, an ache creeping from a chamber in his soul to fill and weigh his heart. Behind, the house remained, headlamps driving away some of the gloom.

Rain fell heavily on a parked Mercedes. Its headlamps twin swords piercing the darkness, illuminating every tear falling from the heavens. Smoke rose from the exhaust, evidence of a silently purring engine. Inside was a single man, face buried in his hands. As the heavens cried, so did he. Freely his tears fell, pooling in his rough palms only to be absorbed by the cuffs of his work shirt already stained red

Seconds ticked on, the tears coming to an end. Lifting up his head, the mans gaze fell on the I.D. card hanging from the rear view mirror. He could barely remember the man in the picture. Still, the name Namdi printed under the photograph was his. Lightning struck, driving away the darkness for a moment, revealing an extravagant two story home less than a mile away. Putting the car in gear, Namdi drove up to the front door.

Stepping out of the car Namdi couldn’t help but watch the rain falling a few feet away from him. With a heavy heart he turned away walking slowly to the mahogany door. They had picked it together. It was meant to be a surprise. He never expected it to be the gateway to more than a home. Looking at the door, Namdi’s heart grew heavier as he fished for his house keys. He stood there about to lose himself to the bittersweet memories of the past when the door swung open.

There was no surprise on Namdi’s face when the door revealed a beautiful ebony woman. Even now in an empty house she wore heels, giving her 5ft5 frame an extra 5 inches. Still, he would need to tilt her chin up to kiss her. Her lips – painted blood red – slowly curved into a slight smile as she saw Namdi. They parted slightly, a lovely voice floating to his ears dripping with honey

"I see her blood on your shirt, very good. Dinner is ready."

Turning around, she disappeared into the house a violet fragrance in her wake. Namdi’s knees buckled and he crashed to the floor clutching his heart. A single word nearly escaped his mouth.

"B...i....s..."

Gritting his teeth he stopped. With great resolve he pushed himself to his feet following her into the house that was once a home.

It was not difficult to track her path, the scent of violet leaving a sweet smelling trail with a hint of violence. Namdi's path took him through the living room, his fingers brushing the couch they had fallen onto, her frying pan still in hand; past the kitchen door, a portal for flying cups, his journey ending at the dining room entrance. There was no hesitation.

On the rectangular table were two covered dishes and a brown folder. Namdi could see tendrils of condensing water vapor above each one. Walking to them he sat down before opening the ceramic covers. Suppressing his surprise was a challenge.

"I thought it should be about you now."

On his plate was a ball of eba about the size of his fist. It seemed inconsequential but for Namdi it meant so much. He looked up, holding Zainab's gaze. She sat there, the floor to ceiling frosted glass windows behind her. Much like her father, Zainab occupied the head of the table, a Queen upon her throne unconsciously looking to her subject. To Namdi's right and her left the painting held its place, the drop still threatening to fall. Capitulating first, Namdi reached for the brown folder beside the food.

"Eat first, there'll be plenty of time for that after."

Said softly, wrapped in love but undeniably still a command; carrying with it the weight of one whose experiences consisted only of the world bending to her will. To be denied was a fantasy, something to be read in the tomes of fiction. Namdi paused for a moment, hand hovering, her words holding him. He couldn't look away from the folder, knowing it held the answers he sought and questions he should seek. Namdi's pause lasted for a moment. A part of him had died, weakening old chains while creating new ones. One thing was certain, he was no longer the man he once was. Namdi's pause ended after a moment. The reaper had branded him, his very essence altered, forever unable to return to what he once was. Saying nothing, Namdi continued as if she had not uttered a word. Folder in hand, it opened to a picture of Bisi, text spilling out flooding his world with truth, with understanding.  From his pocket he brought out the pendant, throwing it. Across the table it slid, clattering to a stop in front of Zainab; a black and white symbol of a closed fist with a pinky extended.

 twitter - @just2days

email - just2day@yahoo.com

thanks for reading

Interesting magic system, like the spattering of science. Is that bags secret name deus ex machine lol. Fun read. What high fantasy novels you into?

You spit quite a bit of truth here. A thought provoking read

Not many start their story with a bowel movement, but considering your characters kinks and masochist behavior I guess its apt. Curious if the cat is a hint to bestiality. Goodluck

I see you got your title change. Hope our valiant knight Ogunmola gets a chance to show his mettle in this tournament. Still as entertaining as ever.

ChisomDgreatest:
Tuesday Tuesday Tuesday Tuesday Tuesday!!!

Lol, Technically still 4 hours left from time of this post and if I was in Alaska 12 hours. Your enthusiasm is greatly welcomed

ogunholla:
Don't tell me that's the last update please!

Lol, hopefully not. I know what it's like to be waiting on an author. R.R. Martin if you beat the odds and see this, hope your writers block has been vanquished and we see Winds of winter this year

You know not the truth of who you are till you live your nightmare.

TANGENT - Today, my Initial CH 47 update I put up a couple hours ago got removed and I got banned from posting till 5:30 p.m. tomorrow. Checked in now and I Guess it got lifted.

BISI - THE OTHER WOMAN CH 47

One heart beat, rapid in its rhythm, weak in its disposition holding at bay the silence that should have been. Somewhere, in the vastness of the cosmos, a star succumbed to the throes of time. Reluctance, fear and a host of timeless emotions were absent in its explosion, dazzling the blackness of space around it with never before seen splendor. Above a house surrounded by the earths growth, unseen by blackened clouds, a single starry light shone brightly and winked out of existence.

On the bed he sat, unable to look down at what he knew lay before his feet. His eyes were faded and dry, his lips without a quiver. Hands remained clenched in a fist, one palm feeling the bite of metal; the other an uncomfortable stickiness. In his chest his heart still pumped. Whether what it pushed was still red, one could only guess. Something broke within him, he couldn't say what. Knees reached up to touch rib cage, fist blocking the world from his sight, body rocking back and forth for an unknown stretch. Feeling was lost, emotion tightly sequestered in a chamber of his soul he did not know he had. He was no longer Namdi, merely a shell that possessed motion and the most basic of thoughts.

Eyes opening to a world of grey, his body moved. Its goal the opened door leading to the bathroom, rose stems pushed aside unnoticed. As rug switched to tiles, his shoes crushed varying colored pills scattered around. In the silence they were discharging cannons, 21 in number, an unintended salute. He faced a sink, the drain unprotected, the counter top home to fallen empty and nearly empty pill bottles. Picking up a bottle he read the label, 'Herceptin'. Tossing it aside, he picked up another, 'Gardasil'; and another, and another, 'Afinitor', 'Xeloda', 'Avastin', 'Fentanyl'. Fentanyl remained in his hand, a shake rewarding him with the rattle of a few pills. Setting it down carefully he looked up to see a mirror that had always been there. On it a faded heart drawn in red with two smudged words within.

A shell of a man watched him, eyes lacking the vitality of the living, replaced with an unseen smolder. On his sunken cheek was a red smudge, similar in color to the fingers of one hand, giving his face a fierce but haunted presence. Curly black hair that had lost its shine hung limply on his head. Reaching down he opened the faucet, the running water pure; And clean; And untainted; its sound eradicating the silence. The temperature fell within the room, sharing its displeasure at the breaking of the tranquility that had just been achieved. He felt none of it, his hand dipping beneath the man made waterfall. A closed fist opened in a bid to wash the foreign entity off the other, forgetting it held something within. The clatter of metal hitting porcelain was crisp and clear. Instinctively he reached out, grabbing the chain before it was forever lost in the labyrinth beyond the rim of the drain, the attached pendant familiar in its design. Into his pocket it vanished.

Over and over he scrubbed his fingers but the red specter remained. Giving up he attacked the smudge on his cheek, achieving similar results. He began to feel a phantom ache. One he could not afford to let breathe air. Without a word his fist struck out, its target the man who watched him. Inches away from the mirror his strike stopped. The Fentanyl appeared in his palm before disappearing into his mouth and down his throat. How many, he was not sure. Water soon followed. The ache faded, tamped down, returning to the dull grey it had once become. Turning, he walked away from the image, the rattle of connecting chains unheard.

At the door to the room he stood, holding the handle, unable to take the step that would leave it all behind. As grey as the world had become there remained a bit of color crumpled on the floor. Though he did not look, a corner of his mind knew she was there, or was it it. A corner he refused to visit for only destruction waited for him. Still he could not turn that handle. Having no other recourse he walked back. In a world of grey she lay there in vibrant color. Breathtakingly beautiful in unadorned splendor. Her image burned into his mind, never to be forgotten, to live on till his last breath. Grabbing the opened wine and glass from the table he walked out, the handle turning with no hesitation, closing behind him trapping a drawn breath.

twitter - @just2days

email- just2day@yahoo.com

thanks for reading

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dimssy:
so I came in to find this awesome write-up.
Captivating, intriguing, maybe breathtaking
Nice one @just2day

The best gems are those you stumble upon. Your words are very generous putting whatever modesty I possess to the test. I appreciate you taking the time to share

Aybm:
@just 2 day, great story so far n ds is well stated.

Thank you for your kind words. Fingers crossed the story manages to be at least good by the end

As usual next chapter on Tuesday. Thanks for taking the time to read, comment and like

Boomboost:
Just2day, are you a dude or a female? Just curious. You are not a bad writer though.

So, I believe the best way to prevent these kind of situation is to make an oath with... Lastly, if after all these measures I still betray my wife, which I'm hoping I don't, I'll give her a gun to make me 'gone'.

Something must to kill a man, and most times, it's a woman.

'Dude or a female'... Is there a third option?

Thanks; what I'm most afraid of is being a terrible story teller, not bad is a plus in my book, forever room to improve

Lol, you really don't hold back any punches, having her gun you down. Your first kill sticks with you...

Preventing this kind of situation... Seduction, Desire can shut down the rational part of our mind, and husband gotta understand if I get a chance with Idris Elba, faithfulness goes on hold lol

Missmossy:
This is highly intriguing, beautiful imagery keep up the good work, kudos.

I hope I do keep it up. Flowery words much appreciated. Those who see beauty are beautiful themselves

Exoticmm:
Niceeee one op! ��

Glad you like it. Thanks for taking the time to comment

jasmine2013:
Great story. Feels very true. I can relate to a few events. Kudos just2day!

Relate to a few events... guess now I can add to the title "based on a true story".lolz

I hope your experiences weren't harrowing and you are stronger for it.

Thanks for the validation; can be difficult sometimes to anchor ones world in some semblance of reality, capturing the abstract while making scenes believable.

Thanks

I had a box just for wishes and dreams that had never come true; the box is now empty except for the memory of how they were answered by you

TANGENT - Well we broke through 20,000 views and have gone well beyond the handful I looked for to keep the story going. As a 'dare I call myself' writer, what more can one hope for but to find those who will relish ones creation


BISI - THE OTHER WOMAN CH 46

She sat there, the bed missing the cuffs that had once held him prisoner. The bathroom door stood open, pill bottles violently thrown all over the tiles. Namdi held his place at the entrance to the room that had tested his will and found him lacking. To his left a table held a vase full of rose stems, their petals absent. Above, an air conditioner kept silent, its services redundant. 

"I wasn't sure you would come. If only I had enough time maybe..."

A sad bitter smile faced a barren wall, in it a complexity words failed to capture. She did not turn around, her back being all Namdi would be given privy to. In her hand she held a pendant, the chain running along her neck.

"Time? It has to end Bisi, it's the only way she will forgive me."

"I once thought four months was more than enough; what wouldn't I give to double it... rather I prepare to curtail it."

"Wake up from the fantasy you've created Bisi."

"When it was just me it didn't matter but now your life is tied with mine..."

He moved forward, footsteps silent on the carpeted floor, his palm no longer empty. Her words left him confused but he did not dwell, shutting the door to his soul and steeling his heart. To the right was the table that had held his clothes. Only a glass and an open bottle of wine graced its surface now.

"She loves me."

"We love you..."

"Shut up!, Just, just, no more. I won't let you screw with my mind again."

"I only want you to see clearly Namdi."

"You call this seeing clearly?"

A less than human grunt escaped from his throat, hand wrapping tighter around the vase, his position less than an arms length away. Bisi had still not turned around, her heart having so much more to give, her mind clouded with an aura of despair.

"There is something I need you to know."

"No more games Bisi, I don't have the heart for it anymore."

"Our fates are written before we even see the paths open to us"

"I alone decide my fate."

"Do you? Pause and think for a second Namdi. We are merely pawns in the hands of..."

"I don't want to hear it!"

His roar drowned her out, arm swinging in a crude arc. The vase shattered against her head, blood seeping from a ghastly gash, rose stems in the air around her. On the bed she fell, the sheets taking its time to adopt a new color.

"I wa...nt to liv..e Na...mdi... I wis....h to liv..., for, for..."

Her words slurred, her consciousness stubbornly holding on, so much more she had to say. She struggled to push herself up from the bed only to fall back down. 

"She wants you dead."

Fingers found her neck, feeling the bite of a chain, achieving what she could not. Muscles bulged, lifting her off the sheets and slamming her against the wall; squeezing, cutting her ability to draw breath.

"S..t...o...p."

Bare feet hung suspended, unable to reach the floor. Weakly they kicked, hitting Namdi's shin to no effect, his eyes misty red, mind filled with blood lust. Red dripped from her hair, caught by the cuffs of his sleeves. Fingers reached up to pry away his vice like grip, a futile exercise. There was an unwillingness in her eyes that had been absent the last time he had held her neck in his hands. An unwillingness that struck a chord in Namdi, cutting through the fog filling his mind, allowing for a moment of lucidity. 

Soft brown eyes struggled to remain open. The room had long since faded away, replaced by a world of brilliance and nothingness. In the distance her mother called out, begging her to return or so her oxygen deprived brain told her. 'Mom' she thought, an arm reaching out to run a thumb along Namdi's cheek, leaving a smudge before falling limply to her side.

Namdi's grip went slack, his spirit drained, her body crumpling to the floor. 

twitter- @just2days

email - just2day@yahoo.com

thanks for reading

TANGENT - ogene007 I tried to find a way to make your words come true. For now it seems I might have failed. For that I can only say i'm sorry, sometimes the pen takes a life of its own

superpauL:
Sir, you are truly gifted I swear down and ur diction are second to none... please, what's ur secret??

Sir, you have a honeyed tongue that made me blush. For a minute I'll allow my mind believe there is no exaggeration and just enjoy it. Thank you

I still have much to learn. Not an intriguing or juicy secret. I guess my influences are the many English and translated works from varying cultures I've been lucky enough to immerse myself in which helped shape my mind to see beyond the horizon and accept white as black and black an exploding sun

davidgrace:
We are all following this story has kept me glued to my phone I am really enjoying it . Weldon op keep it up.

This, my friend, are truly motivating lines. Nice to not have to ride this roller coaster alone. Thanks

Taniaa:
For a first timer to come up with such a story and ends it in tragedy is a crowd puller indeed... an impressive feat exposing your budding talent.
Who didn't notice?
Ask the literacy giants

There is a tiny breath in all of us that longs for a tragedy even as we deny its existence. The Greeks understood how to scratch that itch.

Your encouraging words are deeply appreciated

INDUSTRIALFAN:
and it is such a rare opportunity to get sth this good to read here.

BTW.... I won't mind the experiment o.... Just be sure the lady we intend to use is as pretty and alluring as Bisi has been described...

Lolz, as pretty and alluring as fictional Bisi, that is a tall order. Feels good to have ones story evoke such a warm reception.

Yeah, we are less than a few chapters from the beginning. Circles are fascinating

INDUSTRIALFAN:
about telling a lady I was drugged, I could do that and say I didn't say it before because I didn't think it will make any sense plus I felt I won't be in such a position again then further let her know it's left for he to believe me or not.

When I read from writers like you, I can't help but feel envious of your writing prowess..

Now to arrange for you to get drugged so we can play out this scenario IRL and get accurate results. lol.

You have a valid scenario. It was my intent to have him talk his way out of this confrontation and for them to reach this point after she has hard proof but had to be cut coz I truly have already gone beyond the bounds of 'SHORT' story lol

You sir are too kind and it's an honor to be given such a glowing review though I find myself still lacking but I plan to work up to it. Crafted words are nothing without the active minds of a reader. This brought a genuine smile

holarbolu:
This is beauty at its best bro... Soar on!

Thanks for the encouragement and kind words. We'll see how high I can fly

Know your enemy as well as you know yourself and you will never lose a battle

TANGENT - So, I'm guessing some know there is a 'The Cathedral Church of Christ' in Marina Lagos and it is an Anglican church. For the purpose of this story, there will be a change. It will be a Catholic church and called "Cathedral Church of Saints"

HIDDEN DARKNESS CH 11

A pedestrians skirt flew up, its owners shrill shout drowned by sirens screaming past at break neck speeds. A winding snake of flashing reds and blues; the head silent, large and pure black. Worst day for her to be free-buffing. Ola watched her struggle with the unruly skirt having very little success, men walking nearby silently thanking the speeding cars. Their unwilling escort kept up the chase, barely keeping up with the demon beside him. She was a fish in water behind the wheel of a 2 ton vehicle, weaving through traffic. Many had pulled out of the pursuit. For some he could not answer why, but quite a few became obvious when he saw them turning into fueling stations. Even with those that dropped out, the snake did not fall in length, others replacing those lost along the way. It did not take long for Malaozi to reach 3rd Mainland bridge; the longest bridge in Africa, that is until 1996. Even now it still came a respectable second.

Ola gazed out at the waters stretching to the horizon. He barely registered the sirens anymore, their buzz similar to a mosquito you had tried, failed and finally given up silencing. In the distance there were long thin wooden boats riding the gentle waves. Men stood within, tossing nets out into the Lagos lagoon. The blare of the sirens must have reached their ears but it held no sway over them, their work continuing without missing a beat. Ola felt a slight pang of envy watching their simple lives. Not long after, a small city of wooden structures rising above the waters came into view, a tinder box holding human lives. Makoko shantytown has barely changed, it wouldn't take much to set it ablaze. The Lagos Island skyline made him forget his thoughts. A mixture of old and new coexisting in an uneasy truce, it held Ola spellbound, unearthing the buried past in the vault of his mind. 

The Range Rover came to a screeching halt less than a mile away from the church, police cars forming a roadblock in anticipation of their arrival. Unhurried, Malaozi hopped out of the jeep, brushing imaginary dust from her burgundy jacket. Her nose now supported aviator glasses with platinum frames. Swung behind her back was a black duffel bag. The tens of different police vehicles squealed to a stop behind them, the cops jumping out, no uniformity to the weapons they brandished.

Most of the police drivers looked at Malaozi with an unmasked awe. To experience the expertise of such a driver was already inspiring, adding on that she was a woman was too much.  The highest ranking of them all stepped forward and shouted.

"STOP!"

Stupid man, does it look like the chase is still going on. Ola did not bother getting out of the car, not in the mood to have guns pointed at him twice in one day.

"You in charge?"

"Today today I am taking both of you in for..."

"Well done on keeping us safe with your escort. For your splendid service..."

The bag sailed through the air landing at his feet.

"Who do you think you..."

His hands opened the bag as he spoke, his mouth never finishing the thought as a thin line of drool fell from the corner of his mouth.

"Men, Salute!"

The police officers were stunned at the sudden reversal of their leading officer. While some saluted sharply, others still had lost looks, unsure of what was going on. Ola could see the crisp salutes. He wasn't surprised. Seeing the situation handled he exited the car, his two feet landing firmly on discarded wrappers of gala, fan yogo and pure water. Unfazed Ola lifted his nose to drink deeply the city air. A cocktail of smells flooded in filling him with nostalgia. Maybe I have missed this city. You can't fake the scent of Lagos, it is too unique. With purpose he made his way past the blockade and on to the church. Malaozi followed, half a step behind, many of the police still watching her in awe.

Cathedral Church of Saints was a prominent structure in Marina. Standing since colonial era, its spire sported a pure 24 carat golden cross; if you believe the rumors. Around the grounds was a short perimeter fence, existing more for aesthetics than security. From the gate to the doors of the church was 24 meters; if anyone bothered to measure. Built by Brazilian architects, it held a special place, hosting the prominent members of high class society. Currently it was swarming with well built men in grey suits, dark blue ties and aviator sunglasses, 8 of which stood evenly spaced along those 24 meters. 

A butterfly flew past Ola causing him to stop. He tracked its movement till it disappeared behind a billboard advertising Panadol extra. Malaozi watched him, keeping her thoughts to herself. Continuing like nothing happened he soon stood in front of the first of 8 men manning the path to the doors. 

"Invitation...?"

The bodyguard gave Ola a disapproving look. He couldn't be blamed, Ola looking more like a beggar than anything else. A forest of untamed hair on his head and face, ill fitting clothes with blood smeared at the hems and foot wear that belonged on the feet of a bus conductor. Explaining will get us no where.

"She'll show you my invitation."

"I said I don't take orders from you!"

The bottom of her palm snapped out, connecting with the bodyguards nose in a sickening crunch, breaking it. Fluidly she moved, not giving him time to register the pain, her hand wrapping around his neck, using it as leverage to bring her knee up to find his liver. Three seconds had ticked by, the bodyguards body crashing to the ground. Ola stepped over the unconscious man, covering the first three meters at a pace he planned to keep till he reached the doors. Malaozi dashed forward, rushing past him, her target the next of the eight who still stood with a dumbfounded expression.

twitter - @just2days

email - just2day@yahoo.com

thanks for reading

I'd give anything to return - to when you might ask - to relive our firsts

BISI - THE OTHER WOMAN CH 45

Between their physical bodies was a few strides, but an endless depth separated their souls. He ran to her, swept her into his embrace comforting her like only he could. With a finger he wiped away her tears, with whispers he found and erased the pain. An out-pour of strength enveloped her within the safety of his arms. His heart beat against his chest ushering in a sweet warmth, driving the bitter cold from her form. A hand ran through her hair, lips kissed her brow, fingers stretching out to hold her waist returning her world to that of a fairy tale.

An arm stretched out, fingers curling together grasping air. Namdi's eyes once again saw the truth, a few strides still separated them. The short dream evaporated like all wishes do. His world was not a fairy tale, his story not a single path destined to end in joy.

"Zainab what do you want. Whatever it takes I promise to make it right."

Lightning fell in the distance, illuminating the night sky, sealing his vow and locking his path. In that second, Namdi knew not what his words would set in motion neither did he care. If he was to be damned so be it. He took a step, taking him out of the light shower. Firmly he stood, the distance between them though still significant, now shorter than before. At his words her tears had ended but the heavens' intensified.

"We cannot both continue to exist beneath this dark blue sky."

"Zaina..."

Her words froze his soul, reiterating a truth he stubbornly refused to accept. Visibly he aged a few years, his shoulders bearing a weight he would never rid himself off in this life. Namdi looked to her, hoping she would set those shapely eyes on him one last time. An object sped towards him. Reflexively he caught it, the feel familiar. In his palm a set of keys. Her bare back filled his view as the mahogany wood closed behind her, shutting the door on whatever hope Namdi still nurtured.

He couldn't look away, fruitlessly willing it to open. So much had been left unsaid, if only she would listen, if only he had shouted out the truth for her to hear, if only she could see it wasn't willingly, if only she, if only, if, if, if, if, if, if... A fist struck his jaw causing him to stagger, the physical pain clearing his mind. Taking a deep breath his feet moved guiding him to the Dakota brown Mercedes he had no say in.

Empty roads kept him company, other commuters having long sought shelter. Wipers waged war on the falling rain, a metronome keeping his mind in beat. He reached into his pocket, bringing out the card she had slipped into his palm. A faint scent came off it, mixing with the fragrance of new authentic leather, evoking complicated memories he struggled to keep at bay. On the 5 by 4 card, in simple letters, was a single address. He looked at the blinking dashboard clock and date. The time was right but it was set to three days before, the date taunting him. Pushing it to the depths of his mind, he punched the address into the cars nav system. It wasn't far.

Looking out the window he saw a house on darkened land, surrounded by nothing but untamed bush. Hanging his I.D card on the rear view mirror, he stepped out, running to the front door. A knuckle reached up to knock but he stopped, reaching for the door handle instead. It swung open revealing a poorly lit interior. An aura of loss followed him as he walked in without a word.

twitter - @just2days

email - just2day@yahoo.com

thanks for reading

INDUSTRIALFAN:
Why the hell can't he just blurt that he was drugged and by the time he woke up, he was tied to a bed and the unthinkable happened without his consent? At that point she will get interested and want to hear more. I believe Zainab's Father is behind the set up. Come to think of it,she took him out of a building owned by Mr Shagari without being challenged as to why he was behaving the way he was when drugged. She also was able to walk into the company building at night after office hours without being stopped by the security neither was he informed of her presence by the security which should be protocol. Mr Shagari and his wife are suspects.

Lolz, thought about taking the route where he shares what happened; but, ever tried telling a lady you were drugged into cheating on her after she finds out you cheated... not sure how many would buy that line.

...Mr. Shagari and his wife are suspects... I can neither deny nor confirm your belief/speculation That said, you have a point about the access she has

In doing what we ought, we deserve no praise for it is our duty - St. Augustine

HIDDEN DARKNESS CH 10

A canopy of leaves kept the rays of the sun from the forest floor. On a dirt path an antelope lay down, lazily enjoying the quiet of the day. Its ears perked up catching the faint sound of a foreign element. Rising to its feet, curiosity won over, its nose sniffing for the scent of predators. Finding nothing in the still air its ears turned to where the sound was growing louder from. It did not take long for two suns to blink into being just above the forest floor, a monstrosity roaring into existence. In a panic the antelope scampered to safety as it rumbled past.

Ola could barely stay on his seat. The forest path was decent for a dirt road. If one kept a sane speed it would be a relatively smooth ride. Nothing sane about this omoge, maybe I should wear my seatbelt. Malaozi's foot did not let up on the gas, the 2 ton vehicle barreling down the once quiet path. Bush animals fled for their lives, those too slow meeting a grisly end beneath the behemoth.

"Are you trying to achieve what those assassins didn't?"

Tired of being thrown around, Ola shared his grievance. She ignored him, the odometer needle rising.

"Ok, ok I take it back, no need to push the insanity to a new level. What is the rush anyway?"

"Funeral is today."

"I don't have to be there."

"It's not about you."

She swung the wheel, the vehicle flying out of the dirt path back onto the inter state highway. Behind them the makeshift barrier getting farther and farther away.

"The man with the scar on the cheek, seems you have some history."

Her foot hit the brake, throwing an unprepared Ola head first into the dashboard. The accelerator went down again, sending him back into his seat. Is she trying to kill me or save me. Pulling on the seat belt, he strapped himself in wishing he had another.

"Alright, I get it, you don't want to share about yourself, but we both know whose dog it is. Will he be there at the funeral?"

"Without a doubt."

"Good, since he let his dog off its leash it's necessary he bears the consequence."

"You can't kill at your fathers funeral."

"Since when?"

Malaozi didn't answer, Ola did not expect her too. The odometer was pushing 220 km/hr, the road a patchwork of hastily fixed potholes. Though not a work of art, it was effective. Over a year ago it would have been suicide to achieve such a pace on this road.

"You make a terrible travel companion. Wake me up when we get to Lagos."

With that Ola, reclined his chair and closed his eyes.

The blare of a horn drove sleep from him. The fading pain from his bruises told him he had been asleep for at most a couple hours. Glancing outside he saw a large billboard. 'This is Lagos'. It had been more than a year since he left this city with a strong beating heart. Even now you don't welcome me. One could sense the unapologetic soul of the city from it's first words it chose to impart on those mortals brave enough to wander into its boundaries. There is no welcome, there is no warm reception; you are thrust into the quagmire and expected to sink or swim within.

Ola ran a hand through his wild hair, breaking contact with that fated sign board. He knew well the viciousness and the warmth the city possessed. A car screamed past them, its horns blaring, the driver shouting out curses at the top of his lungs. This mad man is driving against traffic and cursing us, I truly am back in Lagos. Another oncoming car drove past, this time lights flashing along with the horn and curses. More cars followed this pattern. Only then did Ola look around to realize they were the mad men.

On the section of the road designated for those drivers heading to Ibadan, Malaozi was currently silently driving to the heart of Lagos, her chosen lane the middle one.

"What are you doing!"

"There's traffic that we don't have time for."

"Is this how you plan on going till we die you..."

Ola held back the temptation to call her crazy in all the different forms he knew how, the memory of being thrown against the dashboard still fresh. It did not take long before a police car pulled up behind them, sirens blaring. Malaozi did not slow down, treating it as an escort as they made their way along the Lagos-Ibadan expressway.

"Which Church?"

"The Cathedral Church of Christ."

"You plan on driving like this all the way to Marina!?"

"Course not, too much of a hassle, we'll join the proper lane when we hit 7-Up."

Cars peeled to the left and right, no one willing to take Malaozi on in her game of chicken. Behind, the amount of police cars chasing was on the rise.



twitter - @just2days

email - just2day@yahoo.com

thanks for reading

Oluwakemi65:
Nice work. I can't believe it's almost coming to an end.

Lol, the lady teasing me about 'Short'. You had a hand in the story surviving to this point. Thanks

ChisomDgreatest:
what amazes most is how you have words at your fingertips. I really love the way you use the not so common dictions in your tale. That's indeed inspiring.
A nice story you've put out here. Kudos!

You sir are too kind. Your words are noted and much appreciated. Thanks for taking the time and making the extra effort to say them.

As I lie by your side, I have no answer for the chasm growing between.

BISI - THE OTHER WOMAN CH 44

Blink and an eternity may go by. Namdi dared not, his wife filling his vision, radiant in the porch light. A rare blooming flower whose thorns he blissfully grasped, the reward of a divine fragrance more than worth its weight in blood. 

Around them the world continued, nature finding no weight behind their mortal battle. In the distance the storm had begun its fall, lazily working its way to where Zainab and Namdi stood. He took a step forward. The glint in her eyes grew fierce forcing him to a halt. In her hand he could see a brown folder. What it contained, he could only guess. It did not matter, he knew she knew, what remained was how much.

"Does your father know?"

Zainab felt her heart bleed. Of all the words she thought Namdi would utter; beg, lie, flatter, never would she have expected her father being his first thought. Among the emotions of pain, doubt, betrayal, another began to throb; Fury.

"Does it matter?"

Namdi watched her, hoping he would be able to find an answer within the lie of her lips. The pair told him nothing, leaving him further in the dark. 

"Zainab you know I lo..."

"Don't say it Namdi. Don't you dare say it!"

Her chest heaved as she shouted the words, thunder crashing to earth lending credence to her outburst. Shaken to his core, Namdi took an involuntary step back, putting him back beneath the cloudy night sky. His gaze on Zainab now wavering, more chains of guilt wrapped around his mind. 

"For months, Uwata na kai na would say you were cheating and I would be there emphatically defending you."

"It only happened once"

Weakly Namdi spoke the words, each grinding out like ofada rice with more stone than grains.

"And that makes it alright! Only fools love blindly, not till now do I truly understand."

Her chin tilted up, hiding the fleeting hopelessness from Namdi whose head hung low. 

"What is her name!"

"Zainab, it doesn't matter what..."

"You lost the right to tell me what matters. I want to hear it from your lips."

Namdi struggled to find a reason not to utter those four letter which alone are innocent but combined brought a catastrophe to his world. He failed, his mind bearing a strain he could barely withstand. Weak from the emotional onslaught, it came out in little more than a whisper.

"Bisi."

"Does she too love the way you call her name?"

He lacked the courage to answer.

"Zainab, please, I didn't intend for it to happen."

"So what, you tripped and fell into her? The astronomical odds you had to beat..."

"Just give me a chance to explain."

"Namdi, why should I? What have you done to deserve such a heaven defying chance?"

"If you heard it you'd know she meant nothing to me."

"Can you say that? Can you stare at the pain within my eyes and say that Namdi?"

It was then Namdi openly looked into Zainabs deep brown eyes. What he saw broke him, rendering him speechless. Whatever words he thought to soothe her, win her back and ease her woe, died a miserable death. It wrung him, ripping his insides to shreds. A pain so raw ravaged him, sucking his will, forcefully plunging him into a flood of empathy he had no way to defend. Not till that moment did he know how desperately she loved him, how completely she held him in her heart. His breath came out in a ragged mess, his brow peppered with beads of sweat. 

"Why Namdi, just why..."

Tears rained down from her almond eyes. As they fell, the edges of the storm reached where Namdi stood, its tears drizzling on his sunken shoulders, the heavens joining in her sorrow.

twitter - @just2day

email - just2day@yahoo.com

thanks for reading