Monthly Archives: July 2016

HANNAH N’ OLIVER 3

Written by : KeN And Speranza

[ Part One ]

[ Part Two ]


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HANNAH AND OLIVER: [PART THREE]

They approached an old looking hall full of young looking rugged women. She was dropped inside the hall where she lay helpless like a strand of spaghetti draped over furniture. She lay unconscious on the floor. The women in the place looked weak and feeble.  Their faces had huge pregnant stories to tell. Where was this place? She automatically knew that something was not right.  The two men who had brought her walked towards the door and locked it from the outside.

 

She slowly raised her head and gazed at the surroundings around her. She was appalled. A horde of young ladies lay helpless on the floor of the hall. They seemed abused, intoxicated and dehydrated.  As she was trying to  get herself  up, she felt something pressing hard on her cleavage area. She slowly inserted her left hand inside her dress and unmasked a tag that had been permanently inscribed around her neck. It was written no. 1061. She gazed at it again. She noted that all the ladies  inside the hall had the same tag but a different number. She wondered what it meant.


The hall was dark. It was during the night. Her watch read 1am. She sat at the corner of the hall wondering  about her fate.  She hunched up her legs until the knees touched her chest. She held herself and started staring at the young girls. She wondered why they looked so weak and feeble. She wondered what they were being subjected to. Some of the ladies were ‘au natural’ while some had torn clothes that exposed their unwashed bodies. She noted that some of them had fresh cuts and scars on their faces and thighs. Hannah’s heart pounded hard as she  realized that this was not a bed of roses. The condition that the ladies were in, explained it all.

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Half Baked Men

Half Baked Men

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Creative Works By : Melting Ice Towers

Ever gone to a place and wondered what life is? Men are just extremely engrossed in non-profitable businesses and they do not care. Businesses like basking under the sun at 8 am on a Monday morning whilst discussing uneducated bullshit and the likes. A Generation where men have ‘thin’ minds and grow thinner each day as they are continually devoured by each bottle of beer they consume.

It is around 8 am. The sky is blue. The scorching sun is aggressively shining its light on the remnants of the earth. Diana is walking down the road towards town for shopping. She is dressed on that fish sundress that is bright yellow in color. Her black heels and dark shades adding flavor to her clad. She had visited her countryside to check on her friends. She was fond of travelling too. It was long ago since she came home from town. Many things had changed since then.

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the UNFINISHED HOUSE

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Creative Works by : Melting Ice Towers

This was the fifth day out when she was staring at this man at the pineapple plantation. She was anxious to speak to know him and get to understand him. She had this unknown attraction to this hardworking man. She did not know anything personal about him. All she knew was that he came to the plantation on Mondays and Thursdays. She made sure she visited the place on these days to make sure she saw him do what he did. She had not had a man in her life before. She wanted to feel loved and she needed to feel what people in love felt. This inner spirit drove her crazy every day and night. She would feel her muscles twitch and her temperature rising especially when she had feelings of her ‘future-man’. Many men had made advances on her but she remained to this one guy she had never spoke to –the man at the pineapple plantation.

She had monitored this man until she had known his routine. He would weed the plantation for some hours then disappear in some bushes. After a while, he would emerge with different clothes then rush to a nearby eatery frequented by fellow farmers’ just meters from the plantation.  The man followed that routine strictly and this added some worth in him from her. She admired his set of style and timing.




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Dr. Jaoko, His Range Rover And The Club

Taste Me and Become My Prisoner

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Its 5 am on a Wednesday morning; the air is quite wet and it is drizzling lightly. The sky is a bit dark with the stars disappearing gradually as the dawn dawns. The path is muddy due to last night’s heavy downpour. Puddles and murky pools of water are all over the façade of the ground.

 

Mr. Jaoko has just left the bar towards home. If you are a pseudo-medical analyst, his ataxic weak gait and diplopic sleepy eyes can give you an estimate of the alcohol-dosage he devoured.Alcohol was his dearest friend.He had clung to it like vines on a rock wall.The insensate personality in him kept predominating 100% as he scuttled home. The humid, damp, clammy climate reduced Mr. Jaoko to a limp wet rag.

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