Short story: 2 am Conversations

Short story: 2 am Conversations

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“I don’t want that,” “I don’t want it,” she says again. The second time, it is only a whisper. “Don’t want what?” I ask, sitting up straight and looking towards her direction. But it’s too late, a gentle snore signals to me that sleep has overtaken her yet again. Her sleep talking is back though she doesn’t believe it.

I shake my head a bit and let a slight smile form on my face. For someone who speaks counted words during the day, she sure speaks a lot at night in her sleep. She wouldn’t believe me. “Don’t be silly” she’d say, “I do not talk in my sleep” and with that, she’d shrug her shoulders and storm off.

It’s funny, how different people can be at certain hours of the day. For some, who they are between 12-6 am and 6-12 pm can be as different as North and South poles. The other night, Carla awoke sobbing. The tears trickled down her face though she was still In her fetal sleeping position. She just- shivered and let the tears flow. It was all I could do to convince her everything was going to be okay. By morning, it never even happened; at least to Carla.

Speaking about that night’s event would be a mistake on my part- Carla would never believe it. She wasn’t one to cry, still isn’t. A gun would have to be placed on the temporal part of her skull for her to squeeze out a little tear. And even then, all that might be gotten from her would be a “you gotta be kidding me” smirk.

I’m starting to think this is more than a simple case of sleep talking. She’s like a bottle of coke, filled to the brim and just waiting to be opened at night In order for the gas to flow out. The things she’s told me; I mean, said In her sleep, somedays, I just want to cry with her as she shivers in fear and speaks with a hurtful tone. And yet, her eyes are still always closed.

One more night, that’s all I’m giving her. After which, willingly or unwillingly, I’m taking her to to see someone- running, walking or crawling. I don’t care if I have to drag her all the way there, but she needs to talk to someone. Enough of the 2 am conversations. Now I’m starting to think, maybe choosing psychology as a major wasn’t such a great idea. The sight of Carla alone is breaking me. Heaven help my soul.

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Heavens are crying-

Heavens are crying-

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The skies erupt,
The heavens are crying;
Oh but tears of Joy-
It’s a wonderful day.

The earth’s agog,
They’re dampened with moisture;
The drought is gone-
It’s a wonderful day.

The flowers, dancing
Swaying to the rhythm;
As tears are falling,
From the Sky, making music;
A divine beauty,
As the flowers are blooming;
A blessing given-
It’s a wonderful day.

The skies erupt,
In splashes making rhythm;
As the tears, they fall-
It’s a wonderful day.

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Flash fiction: Blackouts (13)

Flash fiction: Blackouts (13)

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Three dream catchers on the porch, three laptops, three pairs of pictures, threes’ of everything and Anna knew she was in the right place. This was undoubtedly “Harrison” aka “H”‘s house. For a genius, he paid little attention to his passwords; he was still the same man after all.

Images of a beautiful brunette woman were plastered all around the messy apartment. Most of them, disturbing. Anna gaped at the somewhat hundreds of images of Allison Blake. This wasn’t going to be the re-union she had hoped for.

A particular isolated picture captured her attention. It was of a stone walled, ancient looking church with one of those rare tower bells. She remembered how she had first met H coming home from a church. Her adrenalin kicked in. She realised what was happening, H was stalking his new prey just as he had stalked her. Anna made a resolve there in, if it was the last thing she did, she would save this woman, she would save Allison Blake. She got to work, beginning with H’s laptop.


This post is in response to Flash fiction for aspiring writers photo prompt challenge hosted by priceless Joy. Word count: 177, slightly over. This is also a continuation of my flash fiction series “Blackouts”. I’ve created a new sub category at the top of my page titled “blackout series” in order to make it easier to find all the other past episodes. Here’s the link: Blackouts Series

Writer’s Quote: Dr.Seuss

Writer’s Quote: Dr.Seuss

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How many a time have we wondered, pondered, got frustrated over the fact that the deadline is here and we’re so behind. I for one am guilty of the crime. We keep on proclaiming “time is running” but in reality, time is actually walking at a medium pace. It is “we” who fail to realise all the things we can achieve in the enormous time we have until the alarm starts ringing that deadline has arrived. Of course, by then we’d automatically feel time has passed us by and blame poor time.

I pray we get the zeal and urge to face up to time, avoid the blame game of “time Is running” and use the minutes we have wisely. May the inks of our writing inspiration live on and may we defeat fiercely the urge to leave things undone until the last dying minute. May it never get too late too soon.

This post is in response to the blogging event Writer’s Quote Wednesay hosted by Silver Threading. Thanks for hanging here this week. Till next time 🙂

Not today…

Not today…

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Sometimes, it feels being sensitive is a curse. You feel things- deeply, a little too deeply. It hurts, you need your heart to bleed but it doesn’t, you need the tears to fall but they won’t. And you stare- blank- at a wall, at mother nature, the earth, the skies, crying inwardly.

Your chest- it rises and falls and rises and falls. You feel the steady beat of your heart, in a regular rhythm. You take one look around and wonder. Where did I go wrong. Where did we go wrong.

You want to help. You stand up- take a walk on short steps to nowhere. Pondering all the while. Needing to blame somebody, yourself. And you wonder… You just keep wondering. What if it was me? And you wish all the pain they going through could be brought to you so that they could be free.

And the tears still wouldn’t come. You get back, sit down… Force your head, your mind, coerce it into falling asleep. It’s morning. The rays of the sun light up the room. It’s there, in your head again. It never left- the thought, the worry.

No… No, not this time. Morning has come and it’s a new dawn. You wash and say your morning prayer. Sitting on the carpet with hands raised- you pray. You pray for the soul of the ones in pain with burdens they don’t think they can handle. You pray for the minds to be at ease, you pray for despair to depart their being.

And it clicks, just like that- it clicks. And you remember, the one who created the skin from dust- He knows. He sees and He hears. It could have been you but it wasn’t because that was their test not yours. But you’re not free and you know it, you know your test is great too. You have an obligation to love and love and care for them- which is a great test indeed. Some people, they don’t need to be told “I’m going to save you”, all they need is a little “I love you”, “I’ll be there for you”

And there and then, you make a new resolution. To try your best to be there for them. And if they don’t make it… Nah, it’s not time to worry yet and you know it, deep down you know it. You let that feeling take over, you pick up the broken pieces in you, forget about you- and go, selflessly, to help that broken soul. It’s not time to worry… Not today.

The beautiful street image above is courtesy of Rufus Mangrove who blogs at Everyday Aperture

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Life is…

Life is…

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Life is a battleground;
A roller coaster-
With mostly downs.
Life is a struggle-
You fight, you lose;
You battle with issues-
A secret war.
Life is a mystery,
Unravelling;
In little steps, taken-
The puzzle fits.
It takes patience,
A thick skin-
To surf through the waves
Life keeps bringing.

Life is pretty,
It’s beautiful-
In the rays of the sun,
In the mountain view;
In the dew after rain,
And the morning haze;
In the force of the moon,
And the ocean’s waves;
In the dance of the leaves,
And the chirping birds-
Is the power to heal,
After life’s heartaches.

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Sisterhood of the World

Sisterhood of the World

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I got nominated again for the sisterhood of the world bloggers award by “ColdChickenSoup” and she posed some really fun and unexpected questions. Thank you so much for this nomination and I’m glad our paths have crossed even if it’s on the blogosphere- here are my answers:

1. What is that one movie that you can’t get enough of?
Ahhh, I’ve got loads of them. But if I have to choose five, it’d be- Inception, Now you see me, chak de India, Fast 5, 3 idiots.

2. Who is/are your favorite person/peeps?
My family. I know it sounds cheesy but when I’m with family, nothing else matters. And friends that become family too.

3. Beauty or brains?
If you mean which I prefer, I’d say brains. Beauty is awesome for the first few moments, but brains leave a lasting impression. So beauty fades, brains remain.

4. What are the characteristics of your ideal man?
Hahaha, I wasn’t expecting this question at all. Well let’s put it this way- if I knew my characteristics of my ideal man, trust me I wouldn’t be single, would have grabbed him by the horns.

5. What is your favorite quote and why?
“You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view- until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.”– this is one of the quotes that help me in my day to day life. It’s a constant reminder for whenever I am tempted to judge a person.

6. What was your family like growing up?
From what i’ve been told, my family had a pretty smooth life with two “very obedient and quiet” kids until I came along. Growing up was fun. If it wasn’t, honestly, I wouldn’t know because as a kid, I remember making the most of very moment- I lived in a bubble.

7. What’s it like when you had the best date of your life?
I’m going to save this space up for when that happens.

8. If you’re a student what do you study (course)?
I’m in my 4th year studying medicine.

9. What is your favorite flower?
I am not well versed in flowery to have a favorite, but I do love roses.

10. Do you agree that love is blind? Why or why not?
I think falling in love for the first time can be what you refer to as “blind” because most times it’s all frills and butterflies, and we’re oblivious to a lot of things especially the”love’s” faults. But eventually, we begin to see clearly and that’s the make it or break it stage. So for me, I wouldn’t say “love is blind” for people who’ve been together for a couple of years.


And now, considering I haven’t seen a “brotherhood of the world bloggers award” in circulation yet, I believe it’s about time we have one. So, I’ld love to nominate some amazing male bloggers whose blogs I believe deserve it.

 Prakash Hegade
Richard Ankers (who hosts an award free blog but I just wanted to recognize 🙂 )
Voice ur mind
Nathan Bonilla
John Foster
The horseman hits again
Idea Dibia
Fred to the rick
Roller coaster rides

Any other male blogger who would love to spread the fun

Here are the questions:
1) what is your favorite book
2) why do you blog?
3) define love according to you
4) if you had to choose one- fiction, non-fiction, poetry, which would you choose and why?
5) characteristic of your ideal woman
6) life is- a roller coaster, mountain climb, landslide, other.
7) favorite author
8) what legacy would you like to leave.

The rules for accepting this award are:
1) Thank and link back to the person who nominated you for the award.
2) List the Rules and Display the Brotherhood of the world Award logo to your post and/or blog.
3) Answer the questions set to you and then you may create your set if questions for your nominees.
4) Nominate around 1o other bloggers and let them know about the award
Have fun and no obligations whatsoever to accept, this is just to recognize wonderful bloggers and spread love with a bit of fun.

image  The beautiful logo courtesy of Frederick

Of all the lights-

Of all the lights-

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All the light,
She may not see;
The cries at night,
From her baby’s lips;
Too weak to help-
She breaks within.

Six months of chemo,
To save her skin;
Her lymphos attacking-
The Rbcs’;
It’s you against you-
A battle steep.

Hope is as long as,
the heart- beats.
Survive for her daughter-
She strives to win;
Leukemia or not,
Fight it out- she will.
The end maybe near-
It’s not gotten yet-
The light at the end-
She’s determined, she’ll see.

I dedicate this to a warrior I know. I love you and you’ll get through this. This is just a journey, not the end. I also dedicate this to every single person who has battled or is battling. I leave you with this message- 

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Blackouts: Anna’s story

Blackouts: Anna’s story

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Anna was a blonde doll-like figure of a lady. Small in statue and dainty in appearance, two of her many traits which fooled onlookers. Beneath all the frills and fuss, was someone who had spent the past ten years living and making it on her own. She was an event planner and the proud owner of a beautiful wooden tent located in heart of fairville grounds.

Her life was going smoothly until she met Harry- an eccentric IT guy. Their meeting, she thought was by chance and after a whirlwind romance, I do’s were exchanged in the heart of fairville. 

Anna soon found herself entangled in the web of a prolific stalker and psychopath with a nudge for violence, and a blinding charm. Harrison crumbled Anna’s world and left her, the shell of her old self. After years of therapy, Anna decided it was about time she faced her predator. Despite knowing well enough that psychos don’t change overnight, she took the chance and paid Harrison a visit. That was when she saw it.


word count: 174. This is my response to the flash fiction for aspiring writers photo prompt challenge where a picture is given for a story to be written. This is also a continuation of my flash fiction series “Blackouts”. I recommend re-reading part6 and part9 and part10 in order to better understand how Harrison and Anna fit into Allison and Richard Blake’s world.

The Train Journey

The Train Journey

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When I was a kid,I always believed my first train journey would be a somewhat replica of Jab we met where I would find my “not so charming” prince in distress, save him from the turmoil of heartache, lose my heart to him unwillingly after a few mishaps where we miss the connecting train and then in the end, he saves me and we live a happy ever after life. Well, life has a way if turning things into the unexpected.

My first train journey was what I would refer to as- eventful. With my Karens-like Caribbean printed skirt, yellow basic too and a colored shawl wrapped around my neck, I embarked on my first ever train journey at the age of nineteen, returning home from school.

After a rocky exam, I made the mistake of going out to “chill” with the gals in the night before my flight. Chilling where I came from basically meant, going out to eat anything and everything. All the pizzas, chin chin (local Nigerian snack), zobo, ginger ale, cookies, chocolates, heck, we even ordered a medium sized chocolate cake.

Blythe time I got to the train station, my intestines were screaming loudly, I needed to go and empty them. I managed to climb aboard the train with my bowels twisting and turning. Luckily (the only luck I had that day) , the train at tenant was kind enough to show me to the loo. The sight I met there was enough for me to puke out my stomach contents. Ahhh,I still feel a. Shiver down my spine when I think of the terrible state in which the toilet was on. Not to forget, it was a pit latrine. Read more