Wohoo!! 3rd/4h no bad @all. Thank you to all d judges,writers n readers. God bless u. I will never forget my humble beginning. @sambroose, Post ur number make I shake body snall reach ur side. U do well. Thanks people. MAD LOVE

Wohoo!! 3rd/4h no bad @all. Thank you to all d judges n readers. God bless u. I will never forget my humble beginning. @sambroose, Post ur number make I shake body snall reach ur side. U do well. Thanks people. MAD LOVE

Wohoo!! 3rd/4h no bad @all. Thank you to all d judges,writers n readers. God bless u. I will never forget my humble beginning. @sambroose, Post ur number make I shake body snall reach ur side. U do well. Thanks people. MAD LOVE

O boy...I been just get chance read all stories nau nau...omo na ZIP o. Everybody tight!! @Royver - you no see anything sha?

The Wages of Sin
They say when a man is about to die, his entire life flashes before his eyes. Apparently it is true. My feet ached terribly but the pain was incomparable to the soreness in my chest. No, not from misery because I was about to die- but because my lunacy scowled at me whenever I attempted to give personal account of my vain life. As I slowly took my last steps toward the hang-mans noose, my mind strayed from the cold walls of the death room, the shackles on my feet, the handcuffs restraining my wrists, the odd-fitting prison clothes on my back and my unkempt countenance was drastically contrary to the graceful appearance I always imagine I once had. My inability to pray to the God I had fervently preached to millions in the past years. The ironic situation made me reminisce over how I got here in the first place.

******

My mysterious journey to damnation had been set in motion that fateful Thursday evening. I had just come back home from the church’s international headquarters where I had addressed hundreds of church workers in a seminar where I appeared once annually. As the General Overseer of Divine Favour Gospel Ministries (D.F.G.M) Worldwide, I was immensely ‘blessed’ and considerably influential in the most significant high-places in the country.

As I alighted from the Chauffer-driven Mercedes G-500 Jeep(one of many gifts from wealthy church members), I barely acknowledged the profuse greetings of the many servants I housed in my stately home situated around the more affluent part of Lekki. My presence caused a stir and honestly, I quietly derived pleasure from watching these ‘ordinary’ ones scuttle whenever I’m around. After all, I was the highly revered Bishop Samuel Atiba of world renown. I chuckled at how passionate I had been while delivering the sermon earlier that day. My charismatic aura always brought about the desired effect... always. But nothing prepared me for the horror waiting for me upstairs.
I swaggered into the luxuriously furnished room I shared with Mojisola, my wife. Something was amiss... the neat tiles on the floor were slippery and wet, the Persian rug damp, as if a flood had swept right through the room and I frowned in disapproval.

“Honey, what happened here? ... Moji... Mojisola... ” her name had barely escaped my lips the third time when I came in full view of her unmoving body at the far end of the room, lying in a pool of what I prayed wasn’t her blood. I rushed in panic to gather her up in my arms. She was very cold and stiff. Her bleeding lips were parted as if in protest to what mysterious brutality she must have been subjected to before she gave up the ghost. She was dead. Tears of anguish washed down my face and soaked my bearded face and dripped unto Moji’s lifeless body. I cried my heart out.

Who should I call...? The more I thought of calling for help, the more I felt less compelled to. I couldn’t explain the genuine guilt I was feeling for her murder. I felt fully aware of what had taken place in my absence. I could almost picture the gory incident unfurl like I was there. The sickly familiar feeling that haunted me all these years. A genuine illusion of remembering scenes and events like I witnessed them, like I actually did these things. But I didn’t kill Mojisola. No! I didn’t kill her. Realization struck out of the blue like lightening. I grabbed the keys to my dead wife’s Prado jeep and before anyone of my aides knew it, I zoomed out of the huge gates at break-neck speed. I found my way unto Badagry express road in no time and as I swerved impatiently between the night traffic, I kept muttering incomprehensible and gnashing my teeth in uncontrollable grief.

“Why should she take things so far?” I muttered, “Why has Cuda chosen to torment me this way?” I asked no one in particular.
I took a turn into a sandy road that led to the sea. As I drew nearer to the beach, I stepped on the gas some more. Despite the fact that it was getting dark, my destination was fully in sight now. I drove as close enough as the car could go upon the sandy beach and hastily jumped down from the car, leaving the engine running and door ajar. I trudged towards the sea. The strong winds raged around me in objection, and my blood-stained white agbada caught the wind but it wasn’t sufficient to dissuade me from seeking answers I needed. I buckled against the menacing wind. Had it been day time, my unmistakable presence would have aroused the attention of fun-seekers and tourists playing along the shore line. Except for the swelling waves and animated dark skies that streaked lightening every now and then, I was quite alone. I continued walking into the dangerous waves until I felt my feet give way and completely enveloped by the ocean.

I felt myself spin wildly in the sea for a quick moment and then all was very calm. My heart beat seemed to have stopped and the noise of the raging sea was a very far away sound of trickling water.

“Cuda!!” I screamed like a mad man. My voice resonating in watery echoes. “Show yourself you evil marine creature! Cuda!!”
The flush of bubbles around me made me aware of her presence. I couldn’t see her or rather she wouldn’t show herself but I felt her presence the way I had when I walked into my matrimonial room that evening. I was in no mood to accommodate her flair for theatrics today and so I gave vent to my aggression without waiting for her.
“Enough Yemoja! Enough of your wickedness and deceit. I can no longer stand your manipulations nor bask in your sinister dark powers anymore. I’ve been enslaved to a bloody covenant and deceitful marriage to you for twenty-eight years of my life. For what? So you could give me all the powers, glory and authority you claim to be sole custodian to, and yes, I got what I sought after. All the sweet vanities of life have been available to me at my convenience and in payment you engineered my damnation, and auctioned my soul to the grand master of hell and now you take the one woman I love dearly? So much for worldly convenience, so much for your professed love for me. I curse the day I set my eyes on you and allowed my useless desires swindle me into believing your beguiling tongue. You evil marine creature and your type are my worst nightmare!” I bawled bitterly to my lover of twenty-eight years Yemoja Cuda who was now fully in view, listening to me wail.
Looking upon Cuda somehow reminded me of the first time I was exposed to the supernatural marine realm. It was flabbergasted to discover that below the sea was an order of existence beyond the visible observable universe. Here exist fabled marine beings with the heads and upper body of women and tails of fish. Supernatural creatures of mesmerizing beauty and paranormal abilities such as transcend the laws of nature. My ability to live under the water as human being came with all the numerous metaphysical and demons that I possess. The blood covenant I had with Cuda made me naturally anaerobic in this habitat.

Yemoja Cuda was staring fiercely at me, her golden eyes no longer calm as the sea. They were dark with rage and her beautiful facial countenance was distorted in a way I had never seen before. Her tail flickered fitfully as she listened to me blurt my profanities. I was fully aware she was capable of killing me right there but I really didn’t care.

Although, she had been the fount of my wealth and influential status as one of the nation’s most prominent ministers. My congregation had continuously swollen every year. The vast majority were ignorant of the source of my controversial yet effective healing and prophetic abilities. They flocked in great numbers to the church’s camp ground situated in the out-skirts of the city. I developed the large expanse of land into a spiritual mini-city where multitudes came in search of miracles to their endless conceited wishes. Indeed a selective number got answers and by their testimonies, the not-so-lucky majority remained faithfully rooted, waiting for their turn. My charismatic grace and in-depth knowledge of the bible in relation to the human psyche was a sensational plus. But without the ultimate aid I got from the dark watery coven of Cuda, there was no way I could have been where I was.

“Ingrate!!” the sound of the furious mermaid hauled me back into consciousness of my aquatic surroundings. Her eyes were burning like the fires of hell. As she spoke, the gold scales of her lower body shimmered in the tremulous waves and she floated effortlessly around me.
“Listen to yourself Samuel. You weep for your earthly wife now do you? Or you weep knowing that your end is near? You should be more terrified of your imminent downfall and how you’d spend your time in your eternal abode with the devil. What trifle you have to pay for all these years you spent in grandeur, respected home and abroad. You are friends with the most prominent and influential people alive. They kneel before you while you shamelessly lay your hands upon them. You have whatever you want and secretly sleep with choicest female members of your church. For a ‘man of God’, you are so pathetic” she paused and came close me. For the first time since almost thirty years her closeness was frightening “Samuel Atiba, you lead millions to damnation every day. Your wife is dead and is probably damned forever because of your folly. Isn’t it fair that you partake of the eternal calamity in which you so deviously lead these foolish ones?” I shuddered inwardly.

Despite my resolve to maintain an unshaken countenance, her piercing glare seemed to pierce through me. I had a legitimate feeling she could see my soul and suddenly, I became terrified. I had to throw in a last attempt at justification.
“But why Cuda? I’ve made a monumental mistake by breaking the regulations of my covenant with you by desiring to have a child with my wife Mojisola. But is that enough reason to kill her, an innocent soul? How long did you think I would endure childlessness? A fruitless man of God attracts mockery of the public! My congregation had started to nestle suspicious ideas. My wife was always restless. So I did the forbidden. What else could I have done? I don’t deserve the castigation you dole me.” I cried indignantly.

Yemoja Cuda softened at my remarks “Hmmm... of a truth, I liked you the very first time I saw you crying like a little child upon the shores of these waters twenty-eight years ago. I was stirred to help you out of the misery your vain world had overwhelmed you with. Yours was easy. Poverty and the insatiable lust for riches and fame. You had a good knowledge of the bible and how to manipulate your kind according to what is therein. You had nothing else in the world, not even the wife you shamelessly weep for now. We helped you by means beyond your world’s comprehension and brought you into limelight. But you violated our precepts not to ever bear children of earthly women. Your attempted treachery cost you dearly”

I wasn’t very surprised she knew of my how I had secretly sought other mystical powers in order to activate my wife’s womb and bear a child secretly. It was open now and there was nothing to hide. I wasn’t so surprised. Her next statement was what held me aghast.

“However, I have a secret of my own. You have children of my kind, with me and the other mermaids you were having secret affairs with. Unlike you humans, we are not selfishly conceited as you are. We cheerfully share our loved ones freely. Yes... most of the pretty girls you slept with in your church are my maids. Your promiscuity is ridiculous Samuel. But we keep our own, unlike the angels of heaven who forcefully slept with earthly women and shamefully disappeared back into the clouds, we keep our own.” I was still in confusion at all this until the waters rippled around me and I knew we weren’t alone anymore.
“Look at your children Samuel” and as if by some magical theatrics, eight sea beings swam toward me, seven mermaids and one bare-chested merman who mirrored all my physical features. The resemblance was startling. He looked at me defiantly as he came toward me...closer... closer... he was so close that our noses almost touched. My high clean-shaven head, my high cheek bones, my neatly trimmed beard, it was like staring into a mirror. I looked away quickly. How could I ever explain this? That I had crossed the boundaries of humankind and had produced these... fishes! It was unbelievable. It was a taboo that carried extreme implications for a man of influence as me.

“You don’t seem very proud to be affiliated with our kind are you” he said to me. My voice! I was completely bowled over.
“Who are you?” I whispered almost inaudibly.
“I am you” he said and instantly transfigured completely into my very appearance. His lower fish-like body had become legs and he stood before me wearing the same agbada as I did.
He laughed in scorn “I have done so many things as you ‘father’. I carry your exact genes, thumbprint, gait, grace everything. I’ve done a whole lot in your name, as you that is why you have memories of places and doing things you have personally never done before. I am you, but so unlike you. My allegiance is with Yemoja Cuda. I carry out her instructions. All I have done for you-as you, has been of great benefit to you but like mother said, you are an ingrate. The Yemoja plotted your downfall and I perfected it. With your looks, I... or should I say, YOU stabbed your wife to death this evening after your seminar.”

Their horrific laughter rang in my ears so loud that it hurt; I wasn’t sure which hurt more, the reverberating sound of thunders, the raging waves or the piercing siren I heard in the distance. I opened my eyes to the rolling blue and red lights of police sirens and saw uniformed men run toward me. Others secured the car I parked in the distance. They must have traced Mojisola’s car all the way here. I felt a thick cloud shroud my thoughts. The handcuffs must have snapped tight around my wrists before I burst into insane laughter.

O.K! We are streaming live now...t-t-flow.9 fm and this is what y'all been waiting for Wages of Sin TAKE AM!
LOL....I'm just kidding oh everyone. Sorry to have kept you waiting. Delay was inevitable, but I finally put something together for you guys. Hope you enjoy my 'insanity' Wages of Sin

repogirl: Tflow left, your clock is ticking away o.....i guess the dead line is still at 12 noon?

GRACE is all I need. I promise I no go fall una hand. Na beg I dey o

Please I need the entire Nairaland community to grant me extra period of grace till tonight. Work this week has left me struggling for breath. I have been writing in between meals and traffic. I had to deprive myself of much needed rest to finish up the story overnight. Please give me till tonight to type and upload. Thank you.

Omo biblical judgement day isn't gonna be funny o . Impatiently waiting for @Efe's multifarious analysis of my work. Her depth is breath-taking, literally

*peeps n jejely tip-toes to safe distance to watch*

dazz661: Very nice story t-flow.....Kinda reminds me of Ishilove's style of writing.

The writing style semblance could be owing to one likely reason- both Anti Ishilove &the main xter(Peter) are both products of d same institution, maybe d same ENG lecturer too. Lol (me no be unilag student o. Na him make LWKMD when I see her analysis. Thanks family.

Ishilove: T-flow, when I was a student of Unilag, the lagoon front wasn't a park o. It was still a bushy, rock littered 'wataside' with dirty stone benches and rickety wooden chairs that students often rushed to 'kolobi' during exam periods. I hardly went to SUB because the gaddem queue that stretched to Yaba often discouraged me, and besides, their food was always expensive. I always stuck to New Hall buttery or that place at the centre of the school, opposite Moremi (I forget now).
'sap-pi-ness'
You belong to the new generation

Your story is sweet, so sweet it gave me a toothache. I don't have a romantic bone in me so the sappiness sort of... I've said too much but I just had to reminisce because I truly miss The Great Akoka

h
Anti Ishi, wetin I wan talk pass to jus dey laugh. U don teach me new word sha *mouthing* 'sap-pi-ness' 'sap-pi-ness'

I just submitted Dark Chocolate ....abeg make una sofry disect me o. Na small boy cause am

Dark Chocolate

“People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that's what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life.
A true soul mate is probably the most important person you'll ever meet, because they tear down your walls and smack you awake. A soul mates purpose is to shake you up, tear apart your ego a little bit, show you your obstacles and addictions, break your heart open so new light can get in, make you so desperate and out of control that you have to transform your life, then introduce you to your spiritual master...” words of Elizabeth Gilbert were on my mind as I thought about Grace…my soul mate. It took me 16 months to realize who she was to me. As she undressed me and discarded my wet clothes, sensations I had never felt before coursed through my body and soul. I wondered what might have happened if I hadn’t bothered to come by her apartment that night. Thinking of the feasible damage that might have been the case made me shiver involuntarily.
******
Grace Olabewaji was the very first person I got sincerely friendly with upon admission into The University of Lagos to study fine arts. Unilag was quite a whole new experience for me. I spent my first few days starring in disbelief at all the people and buildings, walking long distances and admiring the schools various academic structures and environment. There were more young people than I had ever been exposed to at a time (all rushing to and from class and God knows where) Young ladies and men came in various sizes and shapes. Some walked briskly alone, others sauntered along in groups. I remember a particular guy once strolled past me looking like a circus; he had virtually all the colours of the rainbow in his dress-up, I had to look closely to make sure it wasn’t Wizkid the renowned singer.
Unilag was a confluence of variety, the headquarters of metropolitan fashion and style and I Peter Agemo did not fit. I became a loner. I would go to lagoon front by myself, to paint. The tranquility helped. I would let myself be taken by the sight of the sea and let my imagination roam. It was on one of these escapades, that I met Grace.
I had strolled into the park one cool evening to see this dark complexioned lady sitting in my favourite spot. She was reading a book out loud to no audience in sight. I couldn’t see what she was reading because she had her back to me. I was standing transfixed about three metres screaming “INTRUDER” inwardly when she suddenly stopped and turned.
Beneath those transparent Ray-Ban specs were the largest brown eyes I’d seen and eye lashes as long as her legs, which she crossed nicely. She wasn’t strikingly beautiful but she looked elegant and intelligent.
“Its rude to staaarrre mister” she slurred, emphasizing ‘stare’ in a way that amused me.
“That’s my spot India Arie” I almost retorted, but decided to let her be. I turned and was going to look for some other place to ‘curl up’. She quickly noticed my intentions and quipped
“Hey, you could come join me if you want; you’re just as thin as me”.
This made me laugh out loud and I face her “I’m not thin, I’m slender “
“Yea, slim, slender, whatever… ” she rolled her eyes in the most comical manner I’d seen.
Still intrigued, I reluctantly joined her. She introduced herself as Grace Olabewaji and asked if I had a name, I told her. She asked if I could listen to her read… fine, I said (out of curiosity). She was 200 level student studying theater arts which I took mental note of to be excuse for her talkativeness and hairstyle-dreadlocks.
The familiarity that ensued between aided familiarity. She was eccentric, loquacious, free-spirited, vibrant, candidly vulgar and surprisingly independent. At 19, her level of maturity beats mine even though I was a year older.
She’d come by my class and whistle noisily to get my attention; less concerned about other students she might be distracting in the process. If I ignored that, she’d call my phone incessantly.
“What is it? Can’t you see I’m in a class?” I’d whisper
“Dude, its lunch time!”
We never missed lunch time at the SUB cafeteria. The ‘moi-moi’ there was a mutual delight. We had our fair share of fights too. I’d rant, she would counter–rant. “I hate you” was soon clichéd.
Grace liked seeing my paintings and she always had something funny to say about to say about them. She once made a fuss, saying she deserved a self-portrait. We gave it a try a few times, but she’d twitch all the time, and end up cackling like a duck. I was always to blame for her inability to hold still. I enjoyed listening to her read and rehearse whatever crazy script she came up with.
We didn’t escape the normal campus ridicule and tittle-tattle. She handled well on her side, unlike me. My course mates would be totally idiotic. I’d get tongue-tied and bristly whenever she was referred to as my girlfriend. She’d bailed me on countless situations. “C’mon you guys give Pete credit for much more balls than he’s accountable for”. It’d amaze me how she’d say things like that, squeezing what little balls I had and squashing any unrealistic prospect I had nestled in my mind.
We maintained our typical Tom and Jerry relationship for over a year. I had come to rely on her very much and we basically shoulder each other’s weight quite well. Whenever she couldn’t come through, she’d let me know well in advance and if I seem exasperated, she’d bluntly say something like;
“Last time I checked, I wasn’t your girlfriend dude. Quit moping”
And so she was always inclined to say “Get a girlfriend”. She wore me out with such ‘nonsense’ until that fateful March morning when she came by my off-campus ‘apartee’ (which was a mess that morning). Seeing the disarray, she exclaimed “You really need a maid to clean up your mess Pete”
Weary from being rebuked all the time, I fired back “A girlfriend is what I need and I am actually planning on getting one, I’m grown and don’t need you kissing my ass all the time o.k.”
Was it surprise I saw in those eyes or something else? Pain? I really can’t tell now, as it was quickly replaced by a defiant stare “Go ahead… If anything, verify that you are not gay. And yea, I actually forgot to tell you I had a date with Gobe tonight” she hissed.
“Who? That lout? Why do you need to bluff now ehn?” I exclaimed in disbelief
As if to substantiate her announcement, she dialed what must have been Gobe’s number and chattered away, ignoring me completely. Common, Gobe? Of all people, that… that oaf? But she wouldn’t have my whining. We parted with bad blood that morning. I was so blinded with jealousy and still sulking over my bruised ego. She was going out with Gobe that night and I wasn’t going to be outdone.
Dear reader, remember that tramp of a girl back in your school? Well Tife was the one in mine and had constantly been flirting with me in return for little favours like doing her assignments, attendance and things like that. Though I was like the only guy who had not yet had a ‘piece of the cake’, today was the day.

******
Later that night, I was standing in front of the Filmhouse Cinemas, Surulere, clutching a box of chocolate my measly finances could afford. Impatiently waiting for the seductress, Tife. “How could she?” I grumbled. I had been wandering the cinema grounds for over two...what… (I looked at my old wrist watch) 9pm…3 hours, yet she was nowhere in sight. Take three hours and I had been eager to empty my pockets to gratify any of her greedy cravings that night. Practically broken the bank just to make an impression. My aim? Simple. Loose my bloody virginity, (and hopefully my ‘nerdiness’) and Tife was the promiscuous brat to carry out such deviance.
And here I was, calling her number for the umpteenth time, refusing to come to terms with the stark obvious- I had been left hanging… again. She was probably in one of her numerous boyfriends’ bed perpetrating unmentionable feats. Foolish... foolish Pete” I rebuked myself and the dark skies rumbled in concurrence. Without further warning, it started raining. I was too upset to cuss aloud and once again thought about Tife. “Should I wait?” the rain instantly intensified in disagreement. Before I could say ‘Jack’, I was drenched. Defeated and sopping wet, I slogged homeward.


*******
Out of self-pity and partly because of the weather, I resolved to steer clear of ‘danfo’ buses. I hailed a Lagos cab.
“Akoka” I managed to mutter as he pulled over. Without waiting for an answer, I jumped in the front seat. “3K” the chubby man said, apparently adding charges for dampening his seat. Bewildered, but not ready to go back into the rain, I motioned for him to drive.
I reached for the car stereo without consulting the cabbie (I was going to get full value for my three thousand naira). I found The Beat F.M and Fade’s voice filled the car. She was saying something about “how romantic hanging out with that special someone could be” and what not. It took me a lot of nerve not to yell. I quickly switched off the radio. Way to go Fade. The chubby cabman glanced at me, smiling and was about to say something before he changed his mind altogether. Good thing he did. All I wanted was for him to drive.
He’d just driven past The National Stadium when my phone rang. “What… Tife!?” I couldn’t believe she was calling me now. I didn’t even know what to say to her. I wished I could be sincerely vulgar and tell her to go-to-hell but as upset as I was just too timid to do it. Anyway, I picked up and listened to her drone on about how she was sucking off a lollipop at that moment, I clearly wasn’t paying attention but woke up at “baby, you’re not talking… I make you Hot right?”
“Tife… see ehn… I understand you are just being yourself by being condescending and all, but I lost interest.” Not sure if I drove home my point I added “the truth is I’m gay… so just back off o.k.?” I heard her gasp, and with that I quickly push ‘End Call’.
The rain came down in torrents and slammed onto the windshield in synchronization with my heart beat. I could hear the wipers making a ‘swoosh-swoosh’ noise that I wish would just stop. But I had acted up enough and wasn’t about to give the cab man anymore. From the corners of my eyes I could see him stealing fleeting looks at me. He probably thinks I’m actually gay and crazy, he heard me admit it, so well.
I was going to hit something-anything to release the anger that was choking me in that cab. I cursed the tramp Tife for the umpteenth time for causing me such irritation and I swore to stick to my virginity once and for all. Bitter experience had taught me long ago that the whole business of loving was one big useless façade. To me, intimacy which at first might appear as a light and charming adventure inevitably grows into a regular problem of extreme complexity and in the long run, and the drama of a break-up unbearable. Tsk tsk it’s not worth it. I usually told myself. Nobody could shake me out of my opinion.
My flow of thoughts was unexpectedly interrupted as I felt someone’s flabby palms on my biceps, I jerked back to reality and I found myself in the yellow cab. I was still uncertain about the invasive hand that was now touring my head, my neck and my chest. I slowly came out of my reverie only to see the freckled cabbie flash me a set of ashen teeth dotted by gold here and there. His defiant fingers tracing down my chest as he drooled “fine boy… we be one o, shey you know… and I like...” I didn’t suppress the impulse one more second … WHAM!! I punched him so hard, his head did a 90 degree atop his fat neck, smacking hard against the driver side window. The car swerved dangerously as he lost control for a moment. “March brake jor” I shrieked as I reached for the steering in order to steady the vehicle. No sooner had the car stopped than I had jumped on the sidewalk of university road, picked my box of chocolate and gestured as if to hit him again, “abeg no vex” he said over and over again, panicky and sweaty. His pathetic sight made me remember a paltry thief caught in broad daylight in Oshodi market. I left him there whimpering like a little kid before he got a hold of himself and probably turned against me. I may be younger and sinewy, but definitely no match for an aggressive 300 pound ‘rear admiral’. I moved on quickly.
*******

In light of what just happened, I remembered Grace’s words that morning; “Go ahead… If anything, verify that you are not gay …” well, that’s crystal clear now, wasn’t it? My head twirled from the avalanche of thoughts coursing through it as I walked slowly through the drizzling rain. On instinct I checked the box of chocolate within the paper bag, the box was a bit crumpled at the edges but its content safe.
Then it hit me hard, straight in the face – the only rational reason I had bought chocolate that evening – Grace … “I loooovvve dark chocolate” she once told me, and I had sub-consciously carried that at the back of my mind all this while. Like a computer processor, my mind quickly analysed places, people, books and random things she loved dearly; the lagoon front, Shakespeare, Jimi Sofolu, SUB cafeteria, Mavis, Slush, her roommate Rashida, Sovereign Army, Her sister Temitayo Ola, my paintings… me?
I nearly broke down at the possibility… I had stopped shivering now but my heart still thump hard in its coffer. “Mercy me Lord” I said aloud and instantly broke into a jog.
******
“Rashida” I croaked as I knocked the door again. Rashida was Grace’s roommate. I’d just drop the choc with her and scribble something in a note for her to give Grace when she comes back from her date with Gobe. Thinking she was out with the guy made me flinch with jealousy, but I didn’t blame her. Right then, all that mattered to me was to know how she felt… if she felt anything for me.
The door opened and I almost collapsed as Grace’s big brown eyes held me transfixed in the most rigid pose. I stood there tongue-tied and clueless. My shock must have been quite noticeable when she said “you look like a mess” and then crossing her arms across her chest, deliberately indicating that I wasn’t welcome.
“But …but you were supposed to be out with…” I fumbled ineffectively with words
“C’mon, I was only nudging you, I have been doing that all these months dude… you really thought I would go out with…”She flung her hands in surrender.
I just stared at my shoes in disbelief. I felt so ashamed and discomfited. I knew whatever I did now was going to be a long shot but I’d take it anyway. So when impulse said ‘kneel’, instinct obeyed and I dropped instantly on my quivering knees. So far clueless, but willing to ride upon spontaneity. I brought out the box of chocolate from the paper bag and to my utmost surprise I started reading the health benefits of chocolate as written on the box;
“… and lastly Dark chocolate contains substances that can improve health in many ways. It lowers the risk of heart disease and improves brain function. Just like my profound love for you my dear Grace, for over a year, you have been my best friend and I failed to see beyond that, failed to see how I have blossomed in the euphoria of your affections in the past year. Only you understand my twisted psychodynamics, my passion, value and character. You embraced me without questioning and like a bush man that I am, I got scared of love just like I got shy aware from sugar contents. Too scared to read between the lines, too scare to know that there is a recommended amount of daily ingestion of love as it is with chocolate. Just like it is fact about chocolate, that chocolate adds enjoyment and pleasure as well as variety to the diet, you a major constituent of my happiness, enjoyment and pleasure. You, my love are just like dark chocolate, you are my treat.”
I said these whole while staring at her dark long legs and well done pedicure. All said, I heaved a big sigh and stole a quick glance at her face. Her glistening eyes were as Hugh as the full moon and she looked as though she was going to cry. I quickly rose to my feet and started to apologise when she drew me into locking passionate kiss. The magic was intriguing as we embraced at that door post totally oblivious to the world and our previous dissensions. It had taken 16 months of denial and that moment was no time to hold back. There was so much I wanted to tell her. I was like the man who found the fabled Utopia. I was at peace.



Make I continue?

I don cut my story taya... still at 3047 words!! I don frustrate o

Una good morin o. Abeg chance dey for late comer so? @Mazi!! *waving*