I was putting away my cutting paper for the day when my phone began to ring. It was Biola Alabi ”talk to me” I said in a matter of fact tone.
”Yeye woman, what do you have up your sleeves this fine evening?”
”You tell me.”
”Turn down for whatttt?” she cried in an excited tone.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media used in this book are fictitious and are the product of the author’s imagination. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, recording or any information storage and retrieval system without prior written permission of the author.
Email: torchwriter14@yahoo.com
***
It was a cold day in March where the rain refused to fall and the sun decided not to hold court. I wished one of the two would happen, that way I, could make up my mind on the state of my laundry and not have to feel guilty about ignoring it again. The pile of cloths stared at me from the blue basket at the corner of my room. I yawned again and reached out for my black bible underneath the pillow at my side. I flipped to my favourite portion of the bible – the New Testament, Matthew to be precise. Last week, I made the mistake of opening any portion of the bible until I read Isaiah 51:19 which didn’t sit well with my spirit and set the tone for an annoying day. You see I am not so spiritually sound like some individuals who can talk their way out of that passage. I am more of a read and assimilate individual hence my decision to stick to the New Testament these days.
All afternoon, I tried to speak with either Charles or his father but it was an exercise in futility. Finally by 6.45pm, I was able to reach Charles. He sounded out of breath like a jogger who just finished a course. ”I apologise my brother, I got your message and you can trust, I’ve been on this issue ever since.”
”Charles, it’s still like a dream” I cried out in frustration. ”The annoying aspect was her refusal to expatiate on the unfavourable referee. It’s not fair now, you check am.”
”I can imagine how you feel but you must realize there is a limit those people can cross. She may wish to tell you more but at the end of the day, she has to play by the book. If she misyarn, she is on her own plus popsie has to be careful too because there is conflict of interest” he concluded.
While I appreciated all these explanation, it was doing nothing for me. ”But you be my person, so I expect you to be honest with me” I said in anger. ”Which referee be that?”
Petra was in my room as usual the following week.
”So what is the attitude for?” she asked placing her arm on her hips.
”You amaze me, you have the guts to act in that manner after what you did ehn? After all you put me through. I had a sleepless night and I could not reach you for the next few days. Have you no shame?” I asked hotly.
”No shame? You make me laugh please. I promised you nothing. You are the one who ought to be filled with shame. You are the one with the everlasting girlfriend abi fiancé? How dare you cast aspersions on my character?
”I’m sorry, but you were not successful this time around.” The receptionist said scattering some papers on her table. This time around abi? Another time go dey before? God nor go let una use me take play ball. After several unanswered calls and emails, I was at the venue of my last interview. It was an Audit firm on the Island along the ever busy Sokoya Road.
It was not like I jumped from one great company to another with ease. I got some stupid interviews every now and then but the financial ones were not common. Quite regrettable I must add, because that was what I was really interested in. A member of our local congregation had collected my CV before I was invited for this interview. I guess it didn’t matter that I had sent my CV (online) to this same company over and over again without as much as an acknowledgment.
I sat starring at her like a young sailor lost at sea. I could look into her eyes all day long. There were brown and beautiful and Lord Almighty, this girl was bold. She was staring at me and smiling like the seductress she knew she was. I’ve never met a girl this bold in all my years on God’s green earth. I’ve had my few scraps with girls but nothing this intense. For heaven’s sake, she pulled her bra and panties on her own! She reminded me of Sharon Stone and so far, I think I am failing her. I think she is great but the problem is I am a rookie and with all the stunts she has been pulling, I know she is a pro. She is going to floor me and put me to shame right on this rickety bed.
She is a pale skinned beautiful woman with an amazing leg that I can stare at all day. However for all she is worth, she does not come close to my Abike. Abike, Abike, I push that name aside feeling guilty as sin. I think I have lost this battle already and there is no need crying over spilled milk. I am in the arms of lust and she has a firm grip on me.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media used in this book are fictitious and are the product of the author’s imagination. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, recording or any information storage and retrieval system without prior written permission of the author.
Email: torchwriter14@yahoo.com
***
”Tell me what you want” she whispered holding my neck close to her face. She smelt of talcum powder and something else but as much as I tried, I could not get wriggle my neck out of her grasp. Perhaps I wanted it this way; I was tired of fighting her or playing the dumb game.
”Come and see what I have in store for you. I went to the market and even chopped the leaves myself. I did everything from scratch.”
”You know this is not about food” I groaned, I could feel everything within me getting weaker by the minute.
”It is about food” she purred winking at me. ”You can eat your meal at the table or on my bed; take your pick. I want you and there is nothing you can do about it.”
She gave me a kiss and I fell hook, line and sinker. I kissed her deeply and followed her like a young child clinging on to the hands of her mother. We got to her bedroom door and I paused to kiss her again. There was something about her lips, it reminded me of fine wine and I was getting drunk by the minute. She laughed loud and tilted her head backwards, ”Phewww! I will not let you kill me” she teased. She pulled my arms and closed her door with a bang. I was gone!
Musings from a broken jar 