He wanted to nestle in the snug, cocoon of floating senselessness, the insistent voice wouldn’t let him be.
It kept pulling at him; nudging him back from sinking into the deep abyss which beckoned with it’s twinkle of light that beamed at the end.
The nagging voice grew stronger and stronger and his unconscious state was reluctantly dragged to the fore.
His struggle to rise was weighed down by heaviness. Beeps of machines, his mothers anxious voice and the drone of uniformed voices brought it all rushing back.
He remembered. That single minute of distraction checking his tweets; the tumultuous collision, rushing pain and weightlessness.
He remembered floating through the sea of pain, the sweet calming voice of the fair lady who came to his rescue and cradled his head.
He wondered why one of the Saints his mother honoured daily had cradled his head?
He stopped believing those things for a long time, but humored his mother when she dragged him along.
Now he didn’t know what to believe. All he knew was that somehow, she had saved him.
Tess stares around her tiny, sparsely furnished apartment in contemplation.
Her last purchase, a lovely ornate antique mirror, found during one of her forays in a delightful rustic gem of a store, stood in a corner, reflecting the soft glow of the early morning sun.
Time to go foraging for more things, she thinks. Those antique stores sell all manners of lovely odds and ends with lots of character and a story lurking somewhere in the background. ”That hand carved chest of drawers was simply gorgeous.” ”I wonder if it’s still available?”
Slowly but surely, her bohemian taste in furnishing her apartment will be a signature of hard won independence. It had been a major feat to move out of her parents home.
“Who still lives with their parents in their late 20’s, in this day and age?”
Her thought of age draws her like magnet to the mirror.
She stares a bit sullenly at her reflection, pursing her lips as she assessed herself from side to side.
Her figure is still arresting. Flat taut tummy and nicely shaped rump. Lovely peaks – check √
”Not bad at all, if I must say so myself, she thinks in her head.”
”I may not be drop dead and roll over gorgeous but I sure look good!”
”Those heated gazes of appreciative eyes when I traipse down the street cannot be a lie”, she reasons.
”Yet here I am a week to the big Three 0 and no flicker of romance in my life”, her musings carried on. A critical look at the mirrored face does not yield a wrinkle.”Not yet”, she utters thankfully.
”Not a birthday to look forward to.” ”Going over to the house, mama, as usual will be looking at me in expectation of news as if I can conjure a husband with the wave of a wand.”
”Hmm! Maybe, it’s really time to try this online dating!” ”I will talk to Kate to give me the low-down.”
It seems to be going alright with her new online boo – after many disasters, but like they say, you may need to kiss several frogs before you find your prince….
To be continued..
From my neighbours chest of drawers, the interesting things that I found:
As much as possible, I tried not to allow my mind and heart to be affected by racial inflections but sometimes you read something that tugs at you like when you are born black.
That’s it from me folks.
It’s a good day today. Be blessed and enjoy your weekend.
As school kids, we matched in tandem to our classes from assembly singing or should I say yelling a song:
Determination is our motto, Determination, Determination!
Repetitively and in staccato voices too!
No doubt we had no idea what exactly we were singing about. We just SANG happily 🙂
Now as I sit here, in an attempt to drum reluctant and difficult words into a story that does not want to be told, the word Determination echoes in my mind and then…it becomes crystal clear beyond literal levels that:
Someone’s Determination
Is that mental animation
that pushes their bands of resistance
From mundane levels of coexistence
With consistent persistence
To livelier edges of existence
And better culmination
Of one’s life’s narration
There you have it. My very own new definition of determination.
Let me now sing in a hush tone: determination, is my motto, determination, determination 😉
Thescented candles are down to a nub. His favorite casserole is cold and the soufflé has fallen flat.
She looks at the phone for the umpteenth time. Not a buzz. As the minutes tick slowly, the wait becomes unbearable. She knows that it would be another no-show. Another empty promise broken, another lie told and a birthday ruined.
She feels angry frustration for falling in love in a hopeless place. He has been stringing her along all these past year with his sweet tongue.
If she is honest to herself, she knows that he is a consummate liar.
He claims not be in love with his Missus any longer yet Fiorina’s recent findings is that Missus is heavy with the 3rd child.
Enough! I am worth more than this! Emptying the wine glass, she adjusts the zip of the gorgeous red evening gown; a gift from him.
NO more! She said as she slashed it into jagged strips!
After hours of journey on bumpy, dusty roads, arriving his village was euphoric for Ikem.
Mama did a little praise dance when she saw him, and did some more praise-singing, showering him with edifying names when he brought out the things that he came back with.
Friends and cousins equally returned, it would be a good time.
He went greeting kith and kin, strategically launching his new clothes and holding his phone conspicuously for all to see. It’s show time for everyone and he has no intention of being the poorest looking cousin.
Christmas Eve’s night service was a hit as usual. A gathering of old, new, returnees and home bound indigenes. It is doubtful that half of the people at the church service came for the prayers.
Sweethearts fell back in the dark shadows of twilight to hold hands and whisper sweet nothings.
Young rascally boys scared the maidens by tossing penny banger’sin their direction, their squeals of fright an entertainment for them.
It’s a dreamy time of the year, lavishly spent relaxing, binge eating, showing off, going to look at and running from the masquerades, attending a lot of social events….
Eligible young men returned seeking handpicked brides from their villages.
Marriageable girls strut their stuff at Obodo Ukwu, Obodo Ububo and everywhere the opportunity rose, to attract proposals from the city boys.
Hi-Life music blares into the air till the wee hours of the night. Nuptial introductions and lots of traditional marriages are constantly taking place in one clan or the other.
Mama wants to know when Ikem would choose a wife. In fact, her heart and eyes were set on one of Ifemeka’s daughters Kanyinulia.
From Mama’s assessment, the girl is quite sturdy, with nice child-bearing hips, very industrious and pretty too! She makes her thoughts known to Ikem.
”Nna, have you seen Ozo Ifemeka’s daughter Kanyinulia?” ”That girl will make a good wife for you.” ”It is my thought that we should express our interest in her to her family.” ”Her mother is a good friend too you know..”
”Ha! Mama, please not now.” ”Maybe in a few years time.” ”Let me get to Onitsha first and see how things go over there.”
”Hei! My son, if we waste time, another family can pick her out for their son o.” ”That girl is a good catch.”
”Mama, let us pray that things go well, then next year, okay?”
He is happy he visited home. His cousin has agreed to accommodate him at Onitsha while he seeks his future.
He joins his age-grade in their outing masquerade dance.
His satisfaction is soul deep. He knows that his future holds brighter times ahead.
Links to earlier parts of the series are at the top of the page.
Quick Glossary:
Banger: small cheap fireworks that make a lot of noise.
Ifemeka: Igbo name which means ‘things have happened.’
Kanyinulia: An Igbo name for a girl which means ‘let us be happy.’
Nna: An Igbo word for ‘father’. Mothers at times fondly call their sons by such pet name.
Obodo Ukwu: ‘The big square’ A social gathering ground where people go to be seen, to see and mingle.
Obodo Ububo: ‘The sweet/fun square’ A social gathering ground where people go to be seen, to see and mingle.
Onitsha: A city with one of the largest commercial markets in West Africa. It is situated on the river port on the eastern bank of the Niger river in Anambra State, southeastern Nigeria.
Ozo: A highly respected title to a worthy male indigene of a village. Not a cheap process.
Its fun to dig in my neighbours gardens and I never come up empty. Links for you to enjoy.
It wasn’t a good idea to turn off the alarm clock for a few more seconds of snooze, Jane chastises herself as she huffs and puffs downhill in a haste to catch the bus. The few seconds of snatched snooze turned into a lost hour of precious time.
Her pencil skirt is not designed for hurried steps and neither are the heeled pumps made for sprinting, but hurry she must.
An attempt to hike the skirt up her thighs for more leg room yields a rip at the slit and it is not a joyful sound to hear.
”This is simply dreadful!” ”Not today of all days.” ”I can’t afford to be late.”
The tail light of the bus leaving as she arrives leaves her gaping unhappily and hoping the next one will keep to it’s fifteen minutes interval schedule.
As the next bus runs late, her plan to arrive for her interview looking composed and capable dwindles by the seconds and to top it all, it starts to sprinkle.
Rummaging in her bag for her pocket umbrella – which she stores for days like this, when the showers come unannounced, she discovers she has the wrong bag in the first place.
Whoever, created this nonsense of carrying different bags in the first place? She sighs in frustration.
Out of habit and in her haste, she had grabbed her usual every day carry on, leaving behind the nice office tote containing her file, purse and umbrella.
With a sinking feeling in her stomach and her sensible bun fast turning to loose tendrils like limp noodles in the rain shower, she trudges back uphill to her tiny apartment but she cannot get in because her door is a jam-lock and the key is inside in her purse.
”What a fine morning and why do these things happen to me?” She mutters in exasperation, forgetting that she stays up late to watch all the reality shows on television.
Murphy’s Law says, “Anything that can go wrong will go wrong.” Write about a time everything did — fiction encouraged here, too!
Bonus assignment: do you keep a notebook next to your bed? Good. Tomorrow morning, jot down the first thought you have upon waking, whether or not it’s coherent.
The Sun sets, leaving wisps of orange and lavender ribbons across the blue tinted sky.
Anastasia leans on the rail of the promenade deck of the cruise-liner, her soft floral dress blowing in the breeze. Alastair’s muscular arms wrap around her, sharing his warmth in the gentle breeze.
It’s a beautiful day. Their wedding day.
A clear Autumn sky without a gloomy cloud in sight. The aisle and pews decorated with hues of Autumn, in orange gold, red and faded green; her best season of all.
She felt like a fairy princess floating down the aisle to a wedding march of soft tinkle of waterfall and chirping sounds of birds, accompanied by the choristers well modulated sweet rendition of their song. The wedding party was sublime. Everything! Picture perfect!
As the ocean-liner cuts through the waters to a blissful honeymoon, Alastair nuzzles and plants a soft kiss behind her ears. She wants the moments to last forever.
A different bouquet arrived day after day with no indication of the sender.
a cooking pot and twisted tales 