“Why didn’t I arrange for his assassination?” I ask in perplexed wonder.
“Now, he has got the best of my lot.”
”The one that I saved for the best moments.”
”My cultured one!”
”My thoroughbred of the highest pedigree!”
”The one that makes onlookers utter goodness me in divine visual pleasure.”
”Oh why?” I moan yet again in distress.
”All my efforts to get her away from him, just came to naught.”
”The first time he visited, I knew he was trouble.”
”I moved her away, in a bid to separate the two and divert his attention.”
”Yet, lovestruck was he.” ”He kept visiting, again and again.”
”And my malleable, cultured one sat pretty in her revered position.”
”Waiting for the right time to come down from her esteemed pedestal.”
”To entertain the rich and noble.”
”Oh why?” My seething frustration goes up a notch.
”Why didn’t I take her away to a hidden destination?”
”Why didn’t I simply get rid of that vagabond?”
”That good for nothing, never do well!”
”Now he has run off with her!”
”Not even a morsel spared for me.”
”He stole my Moose Cheese.”
© Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha
Image Credit: Nu borrelia