PhantomD:
hmmmm, ok o. this one is better at least.

What do you mean?!

*In the still of the night, a Mother faraway gets a text from her 12-year old Son*

Son: Why do people cry?

Mother: Because that was our first reaction as humans.

Son: Are you happy?

Mother: I'm a thousand miles away from you. That doesn't define happiness.

Son: Do you love me?

Mother: I'm awake talking to you at this odd hour of the night.

Son: Why did Grandpapa die?

Mother: Don't cry when I die, Son.

Son: What happens when we die?

Mother: What happens when we don't die?

Son: Does dying hurt?

Mother: Living isn't fun either.

Son: What about my Father? Where is he?

Mother: Where am I?

Son: Do you miss being with me?

Mother: You cried for days after you were weaned.

Son: When will you be back?

Mother: I won't be back.

PhantomD:

oya, make sense of ur write up.

It makes sense. People really don't get Flash Fiction too well.

favouriteYSF:
And how is this a suicide?

First of all, criticise mildly. Second, it is suicide gone "wrong", so figure that out yourself.

PhantomD:
Wtf are u saying? I hope there's a continuation, to make sense of this sha...

*Drum rolls* The End.

Ede only ordered a bottle of water and a really tall glass. The workers of the Eatery had been observant and busy, but they still couldn't notice Ede's piece of weaponry.

The shiny weapon was beneath her purse. She swallowed all of the water and continued watching for several minutes.

Soon, she was tired and ready to give up. She suddenly lifted the weapon. Once it was sighted, eyes grew wet, mouth mute.

And Ede wept as the weapon was facing her. The other side was facing a young man. As swift as the wind the bullets flew, killing a few, except Ede.

Charity, her pseudonym, Charm was donned in mile-high shoes, a tight skirt and a skimpy top, all under sized for a girl her age.

It was another night to make money, and make another Man happy. These were her job and goal.

Soon, she appeared before her client, a Man whom had to be a Cancer patient, her Boss had remarked. But, the figure was healthy and lusty.

He served Charm no drinks or introduction but ravished her, as if she was his last. He paid her little, and soon, she was gone. She knew she had made him happy. But what she didn't know was, this one-night stand was her own Father.

Nwelu sighed for the umpteenth time. Her breath was ragged and sour, making a few other passengers turn their faces to the other side of the vehicle. Her appearance was appalling, with her dirty and sallow skin, rough nails on her hands and feet, scant and matted hair, and yellow teeth.

God Knows All Transit Motors was set to take off to Onitsha. Nwelu had just returned from her husband's hometown in Asaba, where she had been mourning and doing other sacred cow rites, as a send-off ritual.

Nwelu was now returning to Onitsha, to be with her 6 children, just before her late husband's relatives relegated her children to other Towns and Villages. Nwelu wouldn't want that to happen.

She crooned to herself, as she waited for a few other passengers to arrive. She bought some biscuits and a vial of soft drink, eating and drinking, like it was her last. A little baby cried to have a bite and taste from Nwelu's meagre meal. She agreed to share her small breakfast, but the child's angry Mother rebuffed sightly, with a feign smile etched on her face.

The journey began shortly, as Nwelu continued her sing-song moment. She was lost in her thoughts, silently hoping and praying to God that this vehicle, with God Knows All emblazoned on it, would give her a miracle.

Just then, her phone buzzed in vigour, like a busy bee. It was a call, coming from Asaba. She got the shocking news quickly, making the prickly heat on her face suddenly mitigate.

The Mother of her late husband had passed away, after her confession of killing her own son. Nwelu sighed again, arranging her dirty and matted hair into a bun, while the little baby cried for Nwelu to hold her. Nwelu was suddenly free, and her miracle had come.

Babacele:
send me Binta's mobile.......

I will lol
I'm even shocked you got the story. Nairaland changed my own story for me.

When Desmond told Binta that he was going to show her the ultimate center of gravity, and they were going to do it at the Movies, Binta's thoughts froze.

She had selected three shades of brown dresses, one with a bow-tie, while the others emblazoned with polka-dots. She finally chose the one with the bow-tie.

As Desmond arrived her apartment at 7:15pm, they were ready to arrive the Westmond Cinemas, the best and newest in the City.

Binta's heart went, Thump! Thump! as they walked closer to the Entrance door. It was going to be an experience of a lifetime, she had thought over and over.

But Desmond only paid for the jumbo-sized popcorn and drinks, and paid for their tickets to see an animated Movie. They watched the amusing and garish coloured Movie for hours, without Desmond sliding his hands underneath her dress.

"What's a center of gravity?" Binta asked sheepishly.

"It's the Great Spot! Here at Westmond Cinemas!" Desmond replied, his eyes innocent.

Binta kicked herself from her thoughts, and laughed over the too awkward situation for days. Desmond only wanted to show her the center of gravity, but not the kind she had heard about all her life.

2.
The Bowens had too many chores in their small battered house. Liza had taken two jobs, one at The Bowens and the other at The Ornacles.

The Bowens were nice people, as they promised to pay daily, while The Ornacles were still unknown to Liza. She got to see Mrs Ornacle only one time, as they agreed on the terms of proper cleaning, scrubbing, scouring and washing. Liza's fragile hands weren't made for washing, but she needed the money, so she took washing lessons from her Mother.

First day at The Bowens and she was paid full and even advance, for the rest of the week. Now, it was almost noon and she was off to The Ornacles. She had to make a few things right, before stepping into that shiny house of theirs.

The Ornacles owned too many dogs, both cute and angry ones. She was scared of dogs and she knew a few of them could sense fear. Yikes! Also, she had to learn how to speak a little bit of foreign language, since Mrs Ornacle spoke an unintelligible language, making their communication distant.

Third, she had to do her job perfectly, just to make herself, The Ornacles and her own parents proud. It was a big task ahead, but she knew she had to conquer it anyway.

Three rings later on the doorbell and Mrs Ornacle's oriental face was visible behind the wooden big door.

"Finally! She's here! Where have you been? Have you been lost, child?" Mrs Ornacle said. Her words unclear and annoying, as she had a nasal problem.

"Lost? Uh, no. I work two jobs. I work for The Bowens. Mr Bowen is a plumber. He must have worked here a few times too." Liza said, her words intelligible.

"No, he hasn't. Now, come along, Child". Liza wondered if she looked small or just stupid, as Mrs Ornacle wouldn't stop referring her as a Child. She cleared her mind and followed her into the palatial view of the house.

Mrs Ornacle gave a detailed and exaggerated history about their 100-year old house. It had 10 bedrooms, 17 bathrooms and a water fountain for the outdoors. Liza was to clean and scrub the floors, wash every clothing of the house, including the nakpins. She would also wash the windows and dust the scant Chandelier.

"Wow. That's so much to do! How much will you be paying for all of these?" Liza asked, a tinge of laughter stuck in her throat.

"Hush, Child. Work now, Talk later. I shall be off to The Book Club meeting now. My daughter, Sydney is home, but don't dare bother her. She has some findings to do with her recent admission at LitVille." Mrs Ornacle bragged, her accent now vivid and less inexplicable or daunting.

"LitVille?!" Liza yelled, as that was all she had to hear in Mrs Ornacle's statement.

"Yes! LitVille! Why do you act so surprised? Do you know anything about that School?"

"Of course I do. I got admitted a while ago too. But my Mother doesn't want me to go there. It's too faraway and we don't have enough money." Liza's visage was sour now, making Mrs Ornacle irritated.

"Aw! Too bad for you, girl. My daughter, Sydney will do wonders with that brain of hers. She's a straight A student and she studies really hard. We have enough money, and that's not just it, we have prestige too. I am a Filipino woman, whose husband is known all around the world for his Physics and Biology wisdom. We simply just have it all!" Mrs Ornacle bragged again, her tone dour.

"So what do you've have?" Liza retorted.

"What do you mean? I've my husband and my daughter, that's everything to me."

"Without them, who are you?" Liza asked again, making Mrs Ornacle uncomfortable and late for her Bookclub meeting.

"I've to leave you now! Get back to work, Child. Be good!". Soon, Mrs Ornacle was out of the house, leaving Liza to do all of the work she had been instructed to do. It was so much, but she would have a sing-song moment with herself, as she would scrub the floors and ceilings, just before doing the dirty laundry.

I need new updates. I've even shared this story with my sister, and she loves it truly.
Update soonest, please.

1.
Liza Hendricks, tall and young eyed, exuberant and animate in every doing was the only child and daughter of Mr and Mrs Hendricks, the then owners of The Hendricks Shop, dealer of fine Wine and China. Mr Hendricks, with his bad eye sight, almost blunt eyed as a bat and Mrs Hendricks, the cancer survivor, even though her head was still bald and her breath was huff.

Liza was their eyes and everything else. She was the only good thing of their old age. Now, Liza was 17 and she had just been accepted into LitVille.

LitVille, located almost a thousand miles from the Town was a dream for almost every young child. Liza always wanted to be a part of its fancy surroundings. She wanted the uniform so bad, because of its bright and perfect sartorial beauty. But, she had little success with her education. She was only 10 when she stopped School, but her Mother still managed to make her hold a Pen every now and then.

When Liza was bustling to and fro in their residence, very close to a bayou and a dense forest, that was when she got the mail, emblazoned with polka dots and little Books. She couldn't breathe for hours, as her heart was deep inside her mouth, making her squirm uncontrollably. She ranted for hours about her great expectations for LitVille, making Mr Hendricks almost deaf as well.

Mrs Hendricks returned with a bag of groceries, including shiny apples and pears. Those were Liza's favourite, but now they won't be, since she would be leaving home and her parents. Liza hastily broke the news to her Mother, as if it were a deadly virus or a piece of bad news.

"Very well then!" Mrs Hendricks said, after a long waltz of silence.

"What? You've to say something more, Ma! This has always been my dream, you know that. Father knows that too." Liza commented, her voice gloomy but face as lit as the burning sun.

"Your Father is blind, can't you see? He doesn't know right from wrong any longer. But I do! You are not going to LitVille!" Mrs Hendricks spat, making Liza's visage fall.

"I'm not going? But I've just been accepted. I can't just rebuff their goodwill, Ma!"

"Goodwill? How dare you say that? Who's going to pay for your fees? What about your uniform and food and health care and everything else? Certainly not me!" Mrs Hendricks spat again.

"But Ma, it doesn't matter. I will just have to work harder, before School begins."

"Well, when does School begin anyway?" Mr Hendricks asked, finally animate and alive in the conversation.

"Next month. I promise to look and ask around, so I can do household chores and then, I can get paid. A little." Liza said, fiddling her hair lightly.

"Well, I don't care if you work for the President or even the Governor. You're not going to LitVille and that's it. Now, let's go make some soup, shall we?" Mrs Hendricks had spoken and that was the end. Liza bowed her head in frustration and confusion. Her dream was LitVille but her own Mother wouldn't want any of it to be a reality. How crude!

New Book series is here again. I promise to finish it thoroughly. So, promise to read it meticulously.

Welcome and enjoy;

Who will return well-written Literature pieces and who will be an avid reader for Literature? Who will balance the wailing and dusty Books in every library, after years and years of nothing in the land?

There shall be a contest and only the most reliable will win the throne of the "Ultimate Book-Keeper". Age or status will not save anyone this time. As only the "One" with infallible knowledge will rule the land forever.

But first, they will have to be primmed, trained and corrected to learn, grow and survive in LitVille; The only existing land mass, with the greatest of Literature nobles, Librarians and Bookworms.

So, who then will take the title and rescue all of the land?!

"Guys tend to go really deep when it's your first time!" Ugo almost squealed.

"True! They don't even care if it hurts or not. It's their second head, and that one doesn't think too well!" Nora added, chewing the sour sweet lemon in her drink.

I looked left and right, admiring the fact that my two friends weren't virgins anymore, and I still was.

This was my only sole reason that made me almost join the Convent, other than the fact that I could get STDS, or get pregnant, and live with the bane of being a single mother forever.

That almost happened.

But I enjoyed my first time. I was sated sexually, and my partner/husband went easy on me. He wasn't rough at all. Actually, he was almost too gentle. What a gentleman.

And that was how I almost joined the Convent.

Fin!

Babacele:
you too dey flash jor. make u call oo or .....

I will. New story piece coming up soon.

kazuna:
Are u tantalizing or what?

U want people o beg u to continue

Oh my! It's another Flash Fiction piece of mine.

It was Ofure's first time.

She had not cut herself, or played with the rough-looking boys and girls at School, yet her dress was soiled in blood - actual red blood.

Her dress was bedraggled on the floor in her room, when her Mother walked into the bungalow house. She quickly brushed her hair, even when it was nicely done and in situ. She laid on her bed, and pretended to read a magazine.

Her Mother walked in, immediately sighting the stained dress, hugged her daughter, and congratulated her for something Ofure was yet to fully discover about her body.

emazion:
when are you going to complete only any of you stories?we are waitin::::::::

I'm sorry none of my stories are complete. But, this one is flash fiction.
Thanks for reading and commenting.

Both families had a vendetta for a lifetime. They didn't haunt one another with bullets, arrows or bombs, but it had to be something worse.

Both families had swore to never let their progeny marry from the other side, any one who chose to cross the line would be killed in such a gruesome manner, his or her corpse would be unrecognisable.

But, Roy Okosun and Rhonda Nda had disobeyed the sacred cow tradition and went weak on the knees for each other. Late night meetings grew more frequent and often, until they eventually got caught.

But The Okosuns and Ndas never expected the blow that hit them left, right and centre.

Roy and Rhonda were found in a top-secret warehouse. They died, after consuming a vial of poison, just like the pathetic deaths of Romeo and Juliet. But, as their corpses were being taken to the morgue, Roy sneezed heavily, his eyelids opening slightly.

They waited days, weeks, and even months for a miracle, but Rhonda remained pale and dead for a whole lifetime.

In a dystopian-like land of nothing, but chaos, filth of the law and impertinent leaders, it was finally time to leave the shadows and reach out to the gleaming light.

Wambii, the Town's new hero was always there to save the day. As she had stopped a Train from meeting face-to-face with a falling Airplane, or when all of the poultry foods had been contaminated, causing an incurable disease in women and children.

Wambii was the only one that could face the beasts of the Town. But she had her own flaws, even for a girl without a shadow. She had just been a mere experiment once, in one of the Town's evil laboratories. They made her what she had become, but she would never know.

Osjaay:
o boy u tried o.nicely arranged and beautifully delivered

Thanks a lot. It wasn't easy tbh. I had to use an actual Bible to keep the books and names in sync.
Thanks for commenting, and even reading.

donkross1:



Immediately I gave up my last breath, Suddenly out of no where a strange light shone so bright I had to use my hands to cover my eyes despite the fact that they were shut.

At that moment I began to hear some melodious voices singing in harmony, I was tempted to open my eyes to see where the song was coming from but I couldn't because of the bright light.


"Koffi Koffi" I heard a very deep voice call my name, the voice was so deep and strong that it could break down the cedars of Lebanon. "Who is calling me" I gathered all the strength in me to ask. "I am that I am" The voice replied.

This is actually really nice. Thanks for adding more spice and ice to my work.

[color=#990000][/color] As my nostrils sucked in the thick smoke, and my eyes took in red thick blood, almost as velvet, I could feel my belly churn vehemently.

My partner, Essien had been shot, twice or three times, I wasn't sure. But I could feel my ears ring after the white police officer had plunged a bullet from his gun.

Essien and I were on our way to visit my parents, but his breathing was ragged, and my heart was beating, "Thump! Thump!!". He would definitely survive, but not me. I was watching my lifeless body give up its last breath, as Essien took his last as well.]

DRISKLEF:
No preamble?

Ion get the tale.

Flash fiction alert!

The only great thing my brother, 17, had done was helping out with the shaving of my gaunt Grandfather's head, creating a large tuft of gray, all over our carpet in the living room.

Me, 15, had watched intently, as he skillfully placed the sharp blade on Grandpa's flesh, and gray coloured hairs surrendered quickly and easily.

We had never known our Grandfather, because he was never around. He had been ostracised, or maybe we were ostracised instead, and nobody told us the truth until now.

Now, Grandpa was dying, and this was the only feasible way we could share our little emotions. I watched some more, as my brother placed the now bloody blade on Grandpa's almost bald head, but he didn't frown, he only smiled his last.

Babacele:
Omo ,you must finish this story ooo.

That's actually. It's called Flash Fiction for a reason. Thanks for reading.

The figure was slightly visible under dark skies, but it was donned in camouflage. It walked really quickly, but it was swift and silent in the shadows.

It took out a fine piece of munitions, adoring it like a child. Like her child, the one she had lost many, many years ago. She cherished the child, even when it was dead and stiff, below the earth and stuck beneath the dark soils forever.

The other raging soldiers joined her quickly, their breath louder than their movement. They adored their munitions as well. Then, they spake in jargon, making Marcus, the one with a snag tooth chortle, until Céline hit him lightly in his gut.

"Keep quiet!" She said, as she adored her weapon once more, by rubbing it with her smooth but bedraggled hands.

"Fine! But we won't be for long!" Marcus fired back. Just like his mouth, he fired back with his guns. He was also skilled with the knife, or anything snide and pointed.

Céline signalled for the others to get ready, as the invasion was soon. She had become a indelible and dangerous killer, that used to be a Mother, until she lost a child, her only child, all because of an invasion she would never forget.

SeraSera:
Great story. I liked your writing style and simple language. Thanks for sharing.

Thanks for reading and commenting.

Genesis:
Here comes the sun, as my Papa and Mama had a really terrible fight. Alcohol stench everywhere, vomit strewn on the floor and walls, and the ambience ambivalent to my young soul.

Papa was never a drunken man and he didn't talk inebriated at that very moment, as he yelled so loudly at Mama. It was Doris, my older sister who was drunk, again. She had been caught this time with Papa and he wasn't pleased with any of it at all.


Exodus:
Doris and I had each other for siblings. Papa worked as a too civil of a servant and Mama fried fried meals for hungry men and children.

Income was abundant for everyone, until Papa suddenly stopped working and talking, all together. He grew morose, gloomy and had a ferret on his face for a beard.

Mama continued selling fried foods, until a fire engulfed from her cooking place, killing her co-worker, Madam Agnes.

I and Doris couldn't make it to school at the same time. Doris had to finish School first and I had to come second. Simple!


Leviticus:
And then came the conundrum and tumultuous list of rules from Papa. After our family became a big sack of "nothing", Papa made a list, telling each and everyone of us to simply, "Obey without Complaining!".

Mama grew a mute mouth on her angry face. She never complained or smiled, for that matter. I was forced to do hefty chores at home, just to make Papa happy and comfortable.

Doris was never involved in the "List", as she was having a good time in school. I believed she would finish school quicker and rescue me from what I was facing at home.


Numbers:
Doris' days ought to be numbered in school, I thought. She has been writing home every day, telling me how good things were. She told me she even got herself a new pair of sandals, even without any assistance from Papa or Mama. I was proud, just like she was.

I couldn't wait to see Doris and her new sandals, but she never wrote in her letters, that she had someone new in her life, someone who could afford anything she desperately needed.


Deuteronomy:
We skipped out on this, since Doris never wrote home for a while.


Joshua and Ruth:
These were my two friends. I could tell them anything, since we swore to never tell a secret, except the guardians of the gates of heaven and hell told us to do so.

Joshua looked and acted like a girl and Ruth looked and acted like a boy.

I trusted them so dearly and loved them too. Joshua's mother was a teacher in a small municipal college, but his father was a drunk-useless-fellow, always name-calling Joshua and threatening to hit him. But Joshua always lied, telling us apocryphal stories about him and his father, when he was a child.

Ruth didn't have a living father but her mother and grandmother were her eyes, since she couldn't see too well. Ruth never told us stories, since she had confessed all of her stories were probably too sad or gruesome for us to enjoy.


Judges:
Papa got a new job at The Judges Mattress Company. He could work as a clerk there and earn a few pennies, just to make our family fortunate and happy again. I wrote to Doris, telling her the good news but she still never replied.


Samuel & Samuel:
Mama got a job too, at the Samuel & Samuel Sewing Training Centre, where she could teach young and unfortunate girls how to sew and make a living out of it.

Mama cried the first day she started working there and swore she would never go back. When I asked her why, she simply said, "It was a Revelation!".


Revelation:
It was all a revelation to my eyes, when Doris came back home, with no sandals or even a new dress to call her own. She was drunk, always acting like a nuisance to everyone and making Papa so mad. Lately, she has been making Mama cry too hard.

Apparently, the school Doris claimed to have been a student for numbers of years never existed. She made it up. She made Papa waste his life savings to make her something, when she was obviously nothing.

Doris made Mama think too deeply, earning her a distracted mind, causing the fire years ago, which made Madam Agnes nothing but a corpse.

She also made me narrate this painful tale to the whole wide world. Thankfully, I'm currently writing from the hall of wisdom, located in one of the greatest universities in the world.

Someday, I will be something better than Doris. But for now, this is my revelation.

This is an actual story of The fatal Non-fiction of a Nigeria State, deterred and deferred. It is also an Open Letter, written with fine diction and lexis.

Nigeria, abundant in shield, dark soil and two strengthened horses, until its sudden and confusing downfall.

What then happened to the shiny shield, dark and fecund soil and the two agile horses?

Well, this is a tell-tale to tell it all.

Rachael had just finished making her hair at the beauty salon. Her hair was perfectly made into shiny braids and twists, making her round face less revealing. Her skin was the perfect shade of brown, but now, it was just like the bottom of a burnt pot of rice.

Her scalp was sweaty, as the sweltering heat of the Country was making her uncomfortable and bereft. She was lacking comfort.

The roads filled with potholes and bumps, making unseen babies in the wombs of Mothers ululate quietly. The rickety vehicle swayed to and fro, just to avoid the bumps of the road. The journey was slow, as there was a log-jam of traffic ahead.

Rachael could sight two Police officers, taking money from drivers, and whoever refused, had to be harassed verbally. It was so obvious corruption was breeding in every corner and street of the Country, making Rachael's belly churn. But that wasn't even the hunger she was feeling, down her belly, but the disgusting sight of the Police officers.

Soon, the old driver, driving the rickety vehicle squeezed the small legal tender amount, and offered it to the corrupt men, with big paunches.

"Now, be on your way, old man." One of the pot-bellied men attacked verbally. Soon, the rickety vehicle moved on, and another vehicle behind was the next bait for the Police officers.

Rachael arrived her home, dented in holes and soiled in poverty and nothing. Her Mother, Hannah was a trader, and her Father, Timothy was a bus driver, just like that old man in the rickety bus. Their lives were no better, than any other human in the Country, but they never complained, because this was what they deserved.

Rachael's elder sister, Naomi, still stuck on the streets, finding a reasonable job, even when there wasn't any. But her tenacity to find a good job, with a good value and pay was her parents' pride.

Rachael's elder brother, Willis had been killed and slaughtered severely, while heading back to his apartment on a black Sunday night, when violence unleashed its ugly head, as the Cult boys in the University raged war and onset, killing a few souls, including Willis'.

Now, Rachael was ready to sit for her upcoming examinations, but the government was probably too tired, or just asleep to take an ardent decision. It was strike-on-strike with the government these days, making education less of a right and more of a mere duty.

The society smelled poverty, despair and turmoil, or it was probably just the rotten food, piled up in the refrigerator, as electricity was no more. Everyone was mourning, but it was difficult to tell what exactly wasn't dead in the Society.

Now, the only ray of paradise was the far beyond of travelling abroad, just like Rachael's friend, Agatha, who had been privileged enough, to travel to "The Great Beyond", alongside her family. Now, Agatha was a brand new girl, with brand new dreams, and a brand new accent.

The shiny shield was no more, and the dark soil was pale, and the horses were ashen, leaving the Country in nothing and void.

bigideal:
I have no regrets of been a bookworm.

Me too!
Thanks for reading and commenting.