₦airaland Forum

dammygoody:
**Singing in the spirit** "I am here again, I am here again; Vonn, I am here again........"

Nice introduction....
Pls continue ASAP.

Dammy, hope you don't sound like frog oo.
Anyway, that your song must be accompanied with goodies oo.

Divepen1:
For where I no dey miss that kain thing ooo

Chimo.... Thiefing is not good.
I really how you introduced the story. The hooks at the end though not strong will compel us to ask?
What happened to the Yellow thief on yellow
Also, Richard character was not a type, it was a person. One I want to relate to. You are good.Store that at the back of your mind

My Quote of the update

“Is that a hospital?”
“It’s the closest we can find.


It shows that you appreciate what you have.

Lol... Thanks for following and enjoying.

Divepen1:
FTC...

Bro, easy nah

CHAPTER 1




The perfumes had the highest sets. Richard Fayemi scanned for Venon and found it standing amid other perfumes in the étagère with a curled female figure modelled below its price tag.


He placed his perfume on a ledge and turned to view the necklaces on a shelf that carried numerous gold necklaces. When he turned to the ledge for his perfume, nothing was atop it. No perfume.


He glanced at the ground and roved at his sides, but found no one other than the sales clerk who was thumbing through naira notes.

“Did anyone walk past me?” he asked.

The clerk raised head to him. “I suppose someone walked through the aisle.” She returned to her naira notes.

A young woman at his left diminished into the next aisle. He sprinted there and hailed to her.
She continued walking.

When he was few distance away, she twisted head to him and increased speed, striding into the aisle of hanging blouses and wandering women. The women and blouses caused the most unstable view, making his pace useless.

He finally arrived at a clear space. There was no woman on a yellow gown.
He cupped his waist and stalked back to the jewelleries aisle. How did the woman manage to take the perfume without his notice?


“What happened, sir?” The sales clerk paused from her money counting.

“The perfume I purchased has been stolen.”

She dropped her naira notes on the desk and looked at her sides. “Sorry about that. It should be one of these Lagos boys. They steal and sell.”

It couldn’t be a boy. Boys were very few
in the shop. It was the woman on yellow.

“I think it was a young woman. I tried following her but lost sight.”

She angled head. “That’s uncommon.”

He opened his briefcase and handed the clerk a bunch of money—paid for an item that was not in his hands.

“Sorry for the event,” she said.


As he drove deep into the street, his Honda sank into almost every dent. All he fell into and even those he swerved fuelled the feeling.


He halted and jerked, peered through the windscreen. It was the girl at the shop, strolling on the side lane. It was no mistake. There were resemblances: same yellow gown and falling cornrows. Her right hand was empty, her left was not in sight, but it held something.

A car honked from behind, causing him to bend to the road’s side. He stepped out. A black bag hung at her left.
He hailed to her.
She twisted head to him and immediately started a marathon. No more doubts, she stole the perfume.

“Hey!” His voice increased the length of her legs.
People swarmed the area, not only women as it were in the shop, but people who would bounce on her on any word that she stole. Lagos had never been friendly to her type.

The chattering from his far right sidetracked him before he could open his car’s door. People clustered and created a scene. Some wailed in Yoruba, some murmured, and some watched with wrinkled faces.

He removed gaze and stepped into the car, pushed the gear and began a drive to the scene
.
At the scene, he stretched eyes through his side window. A woman was spread on the road, in bits of blood. A drive further gave him sufficient view. It was same woman.

Her bag lay on the ground, items shattered, and broken bottle pieces surrounded her. It could be a punishment from God.

A man hurled her onto a shoulder and scurried forward, her thick crimson blood staining his T-shirt.

Richard stepped out from his car. “Bring her in here.”

The people directed eyeballs to him.

“A car would be faster to the hospital,” he said.

The man carrying her rushed to the backseat and positioned her there.

“It was a car accident, she got hit while running. The doer zoomed off,” he said. “Hurry, there’s a hospital next two streets.”

“Maybe you should come with me.”

The man hastened to the passenger’s side. Richard entered and fastened his seatbelt.
He avoided looking at the backseat, but the little on the rear-view mirror made him try to manoeuvre traffic.

“There.” The man pointed to a bungalow.

“Is that a hospital?”

“It’s the closest we can find.”

The building’s white paint was peeling off, and there was no gate. His car bumped, forcing him to reduce speed.

They rushed out of the car and opened the back doors. He heaved her into his arms and hurried past the hospital’s door. Two nurses wheeled a stretcher to them and helped him stretch her.

No bloodstains glued to his suit, only hairs. He dusted them off with his handkerchief.

The receptionist table had tiny holes filled with sawdust. He managed to write on the paper without contacting the table.

“Isn’t there a better hospital around here?” he asked the man.

“She was losing blood. This will render good first aid.”

Women and children with slackened faces filled the first pew. Richard found a spot at the second and settled there. The Good Samaritan positioned by him.

“Was the hit that bad?” Richard asked.

“She was running. That must have increased the effect.” The man looked down to his wristwatch.

“You’re missing something?”

“I have to go pick my children from school. I’m an hour late.”

“You should go. I‘d care for the rest. And there’re blood spots on your shirt.”

“I’d take it off. I wore an inner.” He rose and pulled off the shirt, revealing a white polo neck.

Richard rested eyes on him until he got halfway the gate. A nurse eased by, rolling a trolley.

Richard called and got her attention.

“Was the woman severely injured?” he asked.

“What woman?” The nurse carried a naive face.

“Light-complexioned. An accident victim.”

“I haven’t seen her,” she said, with hands already on her trolley, eager to continue wheeling.

“Can I see her?”

“If you think she is seriously wounded, then I’ll say you come back another day.”

“All right. About the bills?”

She pointed left, referring him to the doctor’s office.

After having the talks with the doctor, he began for his home.
The knocking of the generator deprived him of the radio reporter’s final words. He parked and turned head to the backseat. Parts of the leather had reddened. He frowned at the bloodstains and stepped out. The gateman ran to the garage.

“Welcome sah. Ek’ale.”

He ordered the gateman to wash the chairs.
The door crackled before he could punch the doorbell. His woman appeared on a towel and gave out the toilet’s soap fragrance.

A drop of water fell to his shoe as he stepped in. Much of it clung to her hair, giving it a darker brown than her skin.
He opened the fridge and brought out a chilled Malta Guinness. Questions would come, but it should do good to wait until after his drink.

“You didn’t reach the stores,” she said.

“I did.” He gulped some of the malt and settled on a couch.

The forming wrinkles on her face melded with the remaining of her skin.

“Where’s the Venon?”

“It was stolen.”

“Stolen?” Her eyes grew bigger, bigger than envisaged. “Rick…”

“I’m not telling lies. It was.”
She sat on his couch’s arm. “How was it stolen?”

Her question was too direct to achieve a good enough believable answer. Not all truths were believable.

“A girl dragged it from my hand. It was unexpected.” He downed the last gulp.

“Ezinne, I’d get you the perfume. Why would I lie? I had it. It was stolen. I’d get you another.”

“There have been too many excuses.”

“I’d get it before the week runs out.”
Another set of words were about forming, but her lips merged before they could come out. They unmerged.

“Next time, be more careful.”

__________________________________

Warnings: No part of this work should be published, scripted on or off the forum without permission from the author, else be sued for plagiarism.

Copyright ©2015 by INEGBENOISE OSEODION OSAGIE.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be copied in part or in whole or be
reproduced in another format without a prior written approval from the author or the
admin of http://www.nairaland.com.
You can contact the author via the following media;
E-mail:inegbenoise80@yahoo.com
Phone: 07068221839, 08184558200
____________________________________________
This story was originally written by INEGBENOISE .O. OSAGIE in 2014.
This is a work of fiction, Names, characters, places(real) and incidents are products of
the author’s imagination or are used fictitously and are not to be construed as real. Any
resemblance to actual events, locales, organisations, or persons, living or dead is
entirely coincidental.

Hello Nairalanders.
Its been a while I must say.
Well, I come with a story... not mine though...a friend's.

He doubts his ability in this work, so I got the permission to post it here..
Your candid criticism is vehemently advised please.

Welcome as you come on board!!!

Costlybabe:
are you blushing red and yellow,are you married,I have two brothers ooo,u can start now to apply

Hey babe,
Hope you mean Aipete2.
Because if you meant to type Tiff.....then
Don't just go there....
My brother took over a long time ago!!!
Tiff is his

Tiff, don't let their mushy comments make you forget my brother oo
I'm watching in 4D btw.


I tell you, you've really done a great job over here.
Most times, you came with your twists and I was like, 'how fr you Tiff...just go straight to the point nah...she don come again, she wan spoil the whole mood.....etc'
But I always ended up loving the new turns.
You've been through a lot in the long ride (you know those situations better), but here you still are...

A big THANK YOU from me and HIM!!

Hmmmm...Tiff
Why do you always know how to make me smile!!!!

Don't worry... I'll remember you in my prayer so that you would finish the story on or before Friday sef.
Brava!

Hmmm........ Interesting
Keep it coming dear.

Wow!!!!
Thanks for this long update, Tiff!!!!

TiffanyJ!!!!!!!!!!!
Happy New Month!

TiffanyJ!!!!!!!!!!
'Later in the day' don pass!

TiffanyJ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Come and update!!!!!!!

Nice start dear... Keep it coming.

Congrats on making 100 pages Tiff!

So sorry about that Repo..
My condolences....

[quote author=Silensa post=33669628][/quote]May the Lord be with you to endure anything you see. Amen!