5 Minutes More

The restaurant had an offensive odor. Maybe someone made washing-soda at the back, I thought. The ceiling fan wound round like a tired marathoner. It sounded like those small generators when they finally run out of fuel and about to quench. Like mama Nkechi’s snore.

A Wonderful Dreamer

It was this same Fred, my classmate, who first tried to teach me how to smoke. Then David also tried. Fred was a terrible classmate. Rude to lecturers and
was ceremoniously known for his stubbornness. Many bad things were done by him yet he was never allowed to pay for any of his misdemeanor. He had a baby face. More like a goat in sheep’s clothing.

A god forsaken heart

All I wanted to do was to back-off. I wanted to end it all. But I ended up turning them into monsters. I turned them into emotional vampires. Guys who are looking for blood.

Danny was a very cool guy. I really liked him. But then the feelings were dying each day. I decided to back off. The day I called off the relationship I felt a hot chill run through my spine. The look in his eyes were capable of paralyzing my legs. That same moment, I wished I could take those words back. But I already said it.

To die and live again.

Death is an orphan. No body fathers a popular cataclysm. Death is mysterious. A kind of cosmetic contingency, that is. Unforeseen and stealthy. Painful. Unannounced. Dark and fickle. Sometimes sought after. Other times, and most often, wished away. It can be bitter. Like bile. It can be sweet and melodious. It is mostly used as a curse. Rarely seen as a blessing. Hence a double edged sword.

The Wonders of Hell

The first time you heard about hell was when you were seven. Then, you were a naive, slender-looking boy - faultless. The Sunday school teacher, a heavy-bearded man in his early forties, painted hell as a very horrible place. He grimly told you that hell was a huge, blazing and unquenchable wild fire where sinners would everlastingly roast like cashew nuts when they died. He told you that hell was very hot and stark dark - darker than the back of your mother's pot. There will be gnashing of teeth and regrets, tortuous soldier ants and worms everywhere, your Sunday school teacher taught.

Five Minutes

There was a time when Brother Sam used to have a sound sleep, snoring, saliva all over his rounded mouth, like a snail placed on a heap of hot coals. There was a time when Brother Sam used to wrap himself in his blue blanket, a pink pillow pressed below his thin neck - all he needed to have a glorious night after he had said his bedtime prayers. But last night was different; Sam couldn't close his eyes; he seemed to have lost the padlocks to his eyelids, if there were any.