“Wetin do your meat?” I quizzed him.
His shoulders fell.
On the table were pale brown meats, dark around the edges and devoid of blood; the type of meat that’ll stink up an entire house when prepared.
“Na yesterday’s meat. Yesterday na bad market so na dis one remain. But nothing do am my broda.”
It was the same bunch of rascals who called you “pretty” and almost kissed your feet just minutes ago. So you went into full street mode, swearing on your great grandpa’s balls that no extra dime would come from you, even if other passengers complied.
This was the 5th of their weekly ritual as a couple. Sometimes, they did spontaneous sex; sometimes it was a must-have, even if they both were at opposite ends of the world. Slamming into the core of her desires, one final slam got him grunting in satiation.
The moment she showed up on my doorstep, I noticed something seemed off about Adaku I knew. This minute she appeared to be lost in deep, sad thoughts; then like one jolted back to reality, the next minute she was initiating endless random conversations in between forced laughter.
On seeing my ex again after many years, those beautiful memories we made came rushing back. She still looked just as enticing as ever, a pointer to the fact that a long separation doesn’t always kill those strong feelings you thought were buried. I was jolted back to reality by my friend’s voice.
“As he guzzles the content greedily his eyes meet that of the female Managing director of a certain federal medical centre seated at the far end of the table. The look on her face depicts: Ehen? Longa throat. You couldn’t wait? Glutton of the century.”
“Aunty has a good heart, and money too. Some days, I feel really sorry for her. I can’t find it in me to say she is foolish. She’s just lovestruck, dedicated to an undeserving man who has a pattern of not committing; a perpetual player whose deception is serpentine. But she thinks that she is ‘the one’. Alas! She will learn real soon.”
You might know who I’m talking about. She believes that a relationship without constant drama isn’t…
Whatever triggered the boldness in those tiny impudent rats had to be supernatural. If they had dashed across the living room or skidded under furnitures as they often did, it wouldn’t have been much of a problem. At least no one would’ve noticed.