The Visa Photo…

March 28, 2016 jacquelineobyikocha26 Comments

‘You have to look relaxed and smile Nkeonyelu. Abi, you don’t want them to give you the visa?’

‘I hear that they look at people’s picture to decide who they will allow to go abroad o.’

‘Aha! That’s a better pose.’

‘Oya, Patrick snap it like that,’ Nkeonyelu’s mother’s insisted.

‘Make sure she looks beautiful o!’

‘Can you believe it? You, my daughter, will be going to Germany.’ Her ceaseless excited chatter attracted the eyes of other customers.

Nkeonyelu was not as enthused as her mother. Patrick’s busy photo studio was the best that the little town had and not far from it, was another shop where her heart lay.

Secretly in her mind, she wished the visa officer would look at her picture and dislike it.

She silently prayed that they would deny her the visa to join her unknown husband.

It was marriage by proxy and the past few month’s following the ties, she has nursed an unhappy heart.

Her secret love for Ekendili only seemed to burgeon more with each passing day, but she knew that her family would never welcome the suit of the poor cobbler when a golden opportunity has been handed to them right on a platter of arranged marriage.

Inlinkz

In response to the FFAW photo prompt above. Thank you, Uday for the picture and Priceless Joy for this enchanting story platform.

Quick glossary:

Abi – Don’t you?

Oya – Quickly

Picnic in the parlour…Friday Fiction In Five Sentences

March 25, 2016 jacquelineobyikocha21 Comments

Angela looks out of the window in delight at the fair weather, the Sun’s rays wink from beneath the clouds.

Ah! Finally, a beautiful day to frolic, riding bicycles and having a picnic in the park.

It’s a good day today, she hums to herself, rousing the boys from their computer games to assemble the items for an outdoor foray.

The rumble of Thunder, gives pause to her delight and true to type, the fickle weather has changed it’s mind.

We shall just have to have this picnic in the living room she mutters in deflation.

Image credit: Pixabay.com

Fiction · Short Stories · Uncategorized

A New Beginning…

March 21, 2016 jacquelineobyikocha16 Comments

A duty done for home and country, though most times Damon wondered if the toll of duty was worth the sacrifice.

He had seen too many dead bodies and his inner mind had grown jaded. Cumulative years of fighting, of living on the edge had it’s way of sucking into a man’s psych.

Though he no longer served, he wore his fatigues and felt a sense of readiness, like he could face anything.

The stark facts of life’s circumstance whirled through his mind in years, up to the moment the explosion led to his blindness.

It still surprised him that Ann had waited all these years for him. Now, as he fights to find a ‘new life‘ without his sight, she stood supportive, her loving voice encouraging his often cranky, frustrated actions. His lips curved in a smile at the thought of her blooming belly.

She has persuaded him to take a guide dog, that would help him foster more sense of independence and they were on their way to see the one she intuitively felt he would love.

He hoped so.

Inlinkz

In response to the FFAW photo prompt above from Pixabay.com. Thank you Priceless Joy for this enchanting story platform

Humor - Bellyful of laughter · Short Stories

Quit Shilly-Shallying…

March 17, 2016 jacquelineobyikocha3 Comments

Agnes enjoyed the priceless looks on their faces and the gaping mouth as the stared at the rock on her finger.

She had landed herself a Duke. With her controversial intelligent brains as well.

It turned out that The Duke liked a lady who challenged his intelligence and even dared to ride hell for leather.

He wanted no milk and prim miss.

He wanted a zesty, buxom, eyes filled with fire miss, who would keep him well engaged and bear him many sons with her broad hips.

He is quite taken with Agnes and not Anastasia like everyone one expected.

Anastasia the pretty. Anastasia the prim and flowery. Anastasia the proper…

Bah! His Lordship thought. He would be bored between and betwixt. Her limpid eyes held no fire.

Stop shilly-shallying, Agnes mama had said.

Quit all your rambunctious ways, she nagged.

Or you’ll be left on the shelf, she warned.

No man wants a forward miss that rides bareback like a hellion, she intoned.

You my girl will end up an old miss, she shook her head in dismay.

But Agnes love for life beckoned far more than mama’s scolds.

And her love for life led her to the Duke, when her daring ventures caught his gleaming eyes and the good thing is that she fancies him too.

The Daily Post prompt Shelf.

Fiction · Short Stories

The Hired Killer….

March 14, 2016March 14, 2016 jacquelineobyikocha12 Comments

The more he surreptitiously watched Juliana the more his cold killer’s heart grew warmer. He couldn’t bring himself to do it.

This would be one of the easiest job that he has to pull off; just a hard jolt and she goes tumbling into the ravine, but the beautiful unassuming woman’s affectations captivated him.

Mark had painted her to be a spoilt heiress, yet the arresting pair of eye’s, sweet looking freckled face of hers and her demeanour when he had deliberately approached her, depicted none of that.

He liked to observe his targets before choosing the best way to execute his contract and in the past days of trailing Julie, the more he looked at her the more he looked forward to seeing her.

The way she gnawed her lips as she carefully touched statues on display caused his lower muscles to contract in anticipation.
He wanted to be the statues.

Julio wanted Juliana for himself and recognized his desire to protect her.

He decided to call off the job and get to the bottom of the puzzle.

Inlinkz

In response to the FFAW photo prompt above from beautiful Louise. Thank you Priceless Joy for this enchanting story platform

Fiction · Short Stories

Divine Missteps…

March 12, 2016 jacquelineobyikocha21 Comments

Mabel is now at the Autumn of her life, watching the sun-rises and the sun-sets while filling her days with little chores, knitting and waiting for her loved ones to visit.

Christmas is just a few weeks away and she can feel it in her bones already.

Some days, her arthritic pains plagued her, but today is a good day. Her children and their spouses will be arriving soon for their fortnightly dinner.

They had taken it upon themselves to share their visits in batches and come more often since their father passed on.

She preferred to keep her house and didn’t want to move in with any of her children so as not to cramp their style.

Christmas brought special memories and was chock full of nostalgia for her.

Her life with Dan started 43 years ago during Christmas until a misstep on the ladder 3 years past, had sent him in throes of pain with a slipped disc and down the slippery slope of one medical issue or the other until he slept off peacefully.

She recalls mirthfully, how their romance started so many years back. It had all began with a misstep as well.

As she walked down the pews after communion that Sunday morning, Dan had suddenly placed his long leg in her path and an attempt to side step found her tripping and sprawling in Church to her utter dismay.

She had been beetroot red in the face as he stood, all 6 ft 4 inches of him to help her up. He apologized so nicely and that was it. They fell in love and their beautiful union produced five wonderful children.

She always said that an Angel had a hand in placing Dan’s big feet on her path, that the misstep was a benevolent high point and divine orchestration in her life.

Thoughts of Dan always filled her with bitter-sweet emotions.

The ring of voices at the door, alerted her of their arrival. She could hear little Dan’s chatter.

Her four year old grand-son is a spitting image of his grandpa.

The Daily Post prompt misstep.

Short Stories · Uncategorized

The Angry Goddess…

March 11, 2016 jacquelineobyikocha13 Comments

Each day the fishermen set off to the river in search of their daily bread. It took longer and longer, and they had to go further and further for reasonable catch.

Over recent years the harvest has dwindled as the flow of the Nguru was interrupted in unnatural ways and the villagers were unhappy.

The river had many tales to tell. Once it flows past, it never came back that way again, but continued on its journey through the winding villages out to the sea.

The big companies had come with their massive artillery.

They were searching for the gems of ancient days that they believed were hidden in watery coves.

They soiled the water and killed the living things that called Nguru their home.

Simbata the River Goddess is in a rage.

They have turned her domain into a place of greed, avarice and destruction.

She planned to flow over the banks, through the tributaries and into the house’s.

It was time to speak out her displeasure.

The Daily Post prompt flow.

Friday Fiction in Five Sentences · Love · Short Stories

Heartache…Friday fiction in five sentences.

March 11, 2016 jacquelineobyikocha30 Comments

Bowed down, she sobbed in pain as his words cut through her heart and ripped it into little bits.

I am sorry, but it’s over he said.

Was it something I did she asked brokenly.

No, it’s not you. It’s just that I need some space to sort out stuff and I am just not feeling it anymore. He chose the location because he knew that she did not like confrontation and he wanted a quick way out.

The anger surged in her like a fiery ball of fire. All the wasted years of empty promises and he now decides he’s not feeling it. Well, it’s not going to be a quick sprint in the park. She rose like a maddened Tigress, picked up the vase on the table and emptied it’s watery content over his head. She gave him a resounding thwack with her bag and marched off in fury.

Fiction · Short Stories

The Strings Of Flame…

March 7, 2016 jacquelineobyikocha27 Comments

Eddy’s eyes strayed to the glittering guitar which hung behind the counter of the bar as he dusted.

Since he started working for Mrs. Hilley, he had wondered about it.

His eyes gleamed as he looked at it and the flaming guitar glowed brighter under his gaze.

He noticed that she touched it ever so often, dusted it with reverence and hung it back.

He had no idea what the story behind it was, but he couldn’t ask. There were rumours however, on one really knew the truth.

Since he was alone, he decided to play just a little bit. He hoped to own one some day soon.

Lost in the music the guitar’s flaming strings came alive and he failed to hear the door swing open.

Mrs. Hilley listened, tears ran down her face as he played haunting tunes.

Startled to find her watching him he hurried to hang it back but, she set two glasses of apple cider, sat him down to tell him the story of the flaming guitar.

Inklinz

In response to the FFAW photo prompt above from Pixabay.com and Priceless Joy for this enchanting story platform