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As Clara’s footsteps sounded up to the door, he made up his mind to confront her as he saw fit. The door opened and Clara called out, “Honey, where are you?” God punish you, he thought.
She came around the dinning place. “Ah! Sweetheart. You’re here. Didn’t you hear me…?”
“I did,” he replied curtly. “I did.”
“Hmm.” She rolled her eyes and pulled a chair beside him. She kissed him on the cheek and sat. He thought of Judas. How long before the Jews come right through his door? “My love,” she called. “O gini? What is it?” she asked, rubbing his shoulder in that unique, soothing way that she alone could.
Maduka was broken and moved to tears. On any other day, this voice, these words, would have dried up his tears. Now it easily brought the tears. How can one be caring and heartless at once to the same person? It broke his heart. How do people manage to live like this?
“Obim called,” he said finally, the words bundled over the big lump in his throat.
Clara gasped. “Jesus,” she breathed.
Maduka shook his head sadly, turning to face her. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks. His nostrils blew up and down and his lips quivered as he tried to suppress the massive tension building inside him. He had so many questions to ask, but the lump has grown bigger and he could only breathe.
Clara was opening her mouth to say something when he suddenly stood up and walked slowly out of the dinning. She didn’t try to stop him.
******

Aipete2: Also, are u above 25?

Haha. Are you interviewing him for an American visa?

Maduka was absorbed in painful cogitation as he drove to see the messenger that morning, keeping the Toyota Highlander at 20 km/h on Nekede Old Road, Owerri. After the last speed-bump at Number Four Bus-Stop, he pushed it to sixty, speeding past Nekede zoo and Songhai Farms.
All the while, Job’s words kept ringing hauntingly in his ears: “That which I fear greatly has come upon me.” Yet, unlike Job, he wasn’t really certain that his suspicion was right. There is certainly room for suspicion because, as they say, there is no smoke without fire.
His mind replayed the event of that dark day, when they slowly but surely morphed from couple to reticent roommates. He had had fever and didn’t go to work. Clara had hurriedly taken the kids to school in order to return to him. Perhaps in her hurry, she forgot her phone on the dining table.
Soon after she had left with the kids, her phone started ringing. Maduka had picked the phone on the seventh ring, hoping to tell the caller to call back later. He hadn’t even checked the caller name, he just thumbed the green button and the caller fired away.
“Babe what’s the problem? Send me the money na. I told you I need that money today or tomorrow,” he continued impatiently.
Puzzled, Maduka removed the phone from his ears and looked at the caller name, Obim – my heart! He immediately felt a lump form in his throat. He slowly placed the phone back to his ears.
“Babe talk na,” the voice continued. “Hello, babe. Babe, ba...” His thumb, as if understanding his need to listen no more, touched the red button.
He held the phone for over a minute, going through what had just happened. The fact that the number was stored in the phone completely addressed the possibility that the caller may have called the wrong number. Was Clara actually cheating on him? His first instinct was to dismiss that notion, but he couldn’t. The odds were heavily stacked against Clara.
He was about to keep the phone back on the table when it vibrated with an incoming message. He looked at the screen: Obim! His pulse increased. He opened the message reluctantly, expecting the worst. It read: “Babe I tot u promised 2 give me the 250k before ystday. Wat happened? Abeg don’t fail me. Luv you.” Facepalm! This is for real. Clara was having and funding an affair!
Three minutes later, Clara had driven into the compound. His heart was heavy. He didn’t know how to confront Clara. God, he didn’t even know if this was actually happening. He had loved Clara deeper than any woman he had been with. He wasn’t ready for a broken marriage. He saw divorce as a consequence of people’s carelessness. He considered – and pitied – divorcees as people who didn’t know what they really want from the opposite sex. But he had been a careful man, and he had been sure that Clara was all he wanted in a woman.
Apparently, he had been wrong. Seven years and three adorable kids later, the chickens have come home to roost. How long had this been going on? It annoyed him that he hadn’t had even a hunch! Not even for a moment. Shakespeare’s words flashed into his mind: “love is blind, and lovers cannot see the pretty follies that themselves commit.” Bleep Shakespeare, he cursed inwardly, in spite of himself.

Good story. If I have to chip in something, I'll suggest you expunge a few superfluous words.

Please remember to punctuate passably when you start. Your 'advert' has no punctuation. Good luck.

edgideon: I will be starting a serial writting soon(serial in the sense that i wont dwell on one character but we will have a lot of characters I have a gift of a very wild imagination you'll come to learn of
just sit back n enjoy yourselves
I'd be starting soon

Please remember to punctuate passably when you start. Your 'advert' has no punctuation. Good luck.

OK. Will do.

AudreyTimms: Good morning my fellow nairalanders. Please I crave your indulgence. I am new in the art of making my stories public. I have a story I want you all to check out for me. Please constructive criticisms; make una no destroy my writing career with harsh words abeg. Thanks.

AudreyTimms, kindly add a disclaimer at the beginning of this story to avoid "stories that touch the heart".

Forgive me if this question has been answered: Is the price for a complete short story or a story-in-progress?

Now am a father and a wife

For real?

emeka94: WOW. I thoroughly enjoyed the story. You flow seamlessly without hiccup. I so envy you.
I did learn a thing or two about the use of punctuation and sentence structure. But I did notice that you use more of complex and long sentence with lots of comma, why? Am very much afraid of long sentence - to avoid wrong usage of commas though I made an exception in this story.
What do you think of my writing ability, the story line and narration?
Where in th SE are u in?

I live in Aba.
Your storyline and narration is good. However, there are some mechanical errors in the story. When I log in with a PC, I'll try and highlight as much as I can. Good luck!
You should also pay attention to details. See the post below, for example.

Godmystrength: what if i slap slap1?

What if I tell you that'll be equal to suicide?

Maduka’s mother disliked Clara from the day Maduka introduced her as his wife-to-be. She neither liked the way English words rolled smoothly off her tongue, nor the way she appeared to be at home in her presence. A woman like this will sit on his son’s senses, she reckoned. She will turn Maduka’s face away from her, Adanna, and make him a stranger.
The same thing happened to Ojiugo, her friend, at Ndoki. Ojiugo had carelessly allowed her son to marry a woman who wore trousers, painted her nails and could neither pound fufu nor prepare ofe nsala. Despite Adanna’s warnings, Ojiugo allowed her son to marry the efulefu! What did she get from it? Uncountable insults and embarrassments! The efulefu even had the mouth to call Ojiugo a smelly illiterate!
Jesus Christ would never allow any woman to snatch her son away from her! So she moved swiftly and barred her mind to Maduka: That woman must not come into this house!
Her lips quivered with fear when Maduka bluntly refused to take her advice. Maduka had never disobeyed her, which means that Clara had already started her bewitching business on his son. However, she won’t surrender without putting up a fight. Her case must not degenerate to Ojiugo’s!
After Maduka’s wedding, she stayed for six more fault-finding months in his house before returning to the village. During those periods, she did not waste the elusive opportunity of vilifying Clara. If Clara was not wicked for giving her cold water to bath with, then she was definitely a devil for attempting to skin her alive by putting very hot water for her bath!
Her efforts introduced transitory misunderstanding in the family, which clearly defeated her aim. She switched to summoning nightmares where Clara was either pursuing her with a machete or poisoning her tea. When notified of these ‘nightmares’, Maduka asked her the last time she took malaria drugs.
She was planning her next move when Clara got pregnant. She packed her bag and left the house. There was still time, she consoled herself. She will be back.
Seven patient years later, fate offered her the firewood to roast her enemy when she got wind of the trouble in Maduka’s house. Her informant informed her that Maduka and his wife no longer talked to one another! She will never get a better opportunity to strike. Jesus Christ was indeed alive and busy with her interest.
Her informant was not certain, but the problem had to do with Clara and another man. What else could she possibly ask the Lord for? The next day, she decided she had a bad dream where Clara wants to kill her son and run away with her lover. After fine-tuning her dream, she left the village for her son’s house.

emeka94: Thanks bro.
Ur correct about that line. Its a huge error on my part.
I have a huge problem with usage of punctuation, can u drop a few pointers or guards for me
. Also what do you mean by a sentence being weak
I'll put ur observations into practise. U da best.

The bolded sentence should end with a question mark(?), to start with.
A weak sentence lacks force and directness. It fails to clearly thrust its meaning on the reader.
Let's examine the sentence I quoted earlier. It is obvious that the rephrased version is easier to understand than the original version. When you write a sentence, ask yourself if you could have written it better. Attempt a rephrase of it (if you're not sure ) and compare both of them to ascertain the one whose meaning is clearer and better than the other.

This is an excerpt from my story:

www.nairaland.com/1855225/little-things-excerpts-novel-progress


Pay attention to the dialogue and observe how they are punctuated. You should learn something from it.

SugaryBelle: Nice start,hoping for action.

I hope so too. Though the story that should have more action(if we are thinking the same thing) will come later this week or next, God supporting.

Godmystrength:
What if i say pictures or i don't believe you!!!

Lol. Yeye don start to smell already.

I shook her shoulders, but not an eye lid
or a sound did she make.

This sentence construction is strange and weak. You mean she didn't MAKE an eyelid? I'll rephrase it as: I shook her shoulders; but she neither bated an eyelid nor made a sound.

Furthermore, I think you have to pay attention to your punctuations. You present interrogative sentences without question marks, switch dialogues without commas and end what should be sentences without full-stops.

These are the two I identified easily because I haven't really read the story. When I do, I'll comment some more.

All the best!

The Color Purple by Alice Walker

The Palm Wine Drinkard by Amos Tutuola AND

White Teeth by Zadie Smith

Clara held the front passenger door
open as Nita bundled her four year old
self into the car. For the sake of peace,
the front seat was always reserved for
her. The others climbed into the back
seat. Settled, she smiled up at her
mother and she returned the smile.
Clara closed the door, went over to her
side of the car and started the engine.
She dropped the kids off at school and
drove to the supermarket for some
household shopping. After that, she
drove back home. Her one-month
annual leave began three days ago, so
she won’t be going to work anytime
soon.
Maduka had promised to take the family
to Dubai whenever her annual leave
came up. It would be on a weekend so
the kids won’t miss much school work.
The arrangement had been completed
before she unknowingly jeopardized her marriage by
a seemingly innocuous act.
Obinna, her ex-boyfriend, had ghosted
briefly into her life, raising dust that
floated only upwards, defying, teasing and
mocking gravity.

The text message was quite straightforward: “See me. It’s about your marriage.”

The message could not have come at a more congruous moment. Maduka stared at the phone for a fleeting moment. His head turned to his wife – who was fast asleep, facing away from him – and back to the phone. The time on the phone’s screen showed 11:30 pm. But he still looked at the big clock hung on the opposite wall to be sure.
He mechanically kept the phone on the bedside table and sat up. He has struggled in vain to sleep before the SMS. Now the SMS has effectively kept any semblance of sleep beyond him.
His wife made some sleepy sound and stirred so that their bodies almost touch. He instinctively shifted to avoid the body contact. He immediately felt bad that things have gotten to this pitiable point between them, where an attempt at body contact – deliberate or not – is consciously avoided. He consoled himself and even attempted to justify his action by telling himself that Clara would have done the same if the opportunity calls. A woman who would do what Clara had done was easily capable of anything.
He reached for the phone and read the message again. He dialed the number.
“Good evening.”
“Good evening,” the other voice replied.
“I got your message. When do we…?”
“No!” the voice pleaded. “It is not my message. The message is from The Lord; I am only a messenger.”
“Ok,” Maduka agreed. “When do we see?”
“Tomorrow, if your work permits.”
Maduka pondered this briefly. “Can I meet you by eight in the morning?”
“Yes, that would be fine.”
“OK. Till then. Goodnight.”
“Bless you.”
Click
Maduka swung his legs off the bed and walked into the toilet to relieve his bladder. Finished with that, he left the room to check on their children. The three of them were fast asleep.
He walked back to the room, slipped under the covers and thought of those things that usually ended as nothing. Outside, on the street, a car sped past, loud music blasting from its sound system, piercing the stillness of the night. Someone had taken a drink for six, it seemed.
The gentle tap his cheek woke him. He frowned seriously, eyes still closed, in case the intruder was Clara, his wife.
The tap came again, harder, followed by “Daddy, wake up.” Disappointed, he freed up his face, opened his eyes and offered a smile. Nita returned the smile. She has the habit of waking up anyone she liked to partake in her difficulty when she can’t sleep anymore. It used to be any of her two older siblings, until they each gave her an impatient back-hand slap and a kick on the stomach on two different occasions. Now it’s either daddy or mummy, as led by the spirit.
Maduka looked at the clock. 6:25 am. Beside him, Clara was stirring awake. He tapped Nita’s small back, “Let’s go for morning prayers in your room. Quick. Wake the others before I get there.” Nita bounced off to their room.
An hour later, Maduka dressed up and walked to his car.

******