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THE MATH BETWEEN US

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THE MATH BETWEEN US

That the math between us was presenting problems
What crap! And you have the nerve to point it out!??
What difference does it make? I bet whatever I have is more real than what you think you do.
Why not let me fall, and regret my own mistakes?
Why not let him leave when he tires of fixing my self-esteem and failing at it?
Why not let me call it quits when I spend hours on end checking his nonexistent replies to my short texts?
Why not let us know each other’s depths like none ever has?
Why not let us kill each other when we start cheating and lying?
Why not let us bicker and argue till we wake up the neighbors?
Why not let me break glasses and walk away only to come back after my wrath subsides? Like a normal girl.
Why let it end before it begins?
Why not let us delve in the magical world of being in love?
Why not let us experiment? For we found that which was so out of reach
Why curtail our open mindedness?
Why not let us lose all our photos only to overcompensate by making even better memories?
Why not let us stand in the rain dancing and professing love? Because the least you could do is hold an umbrella over our heads.

Let us live. Let us break our legs skating and almost drown in the pool.
Let us stay broke for a month because we went to the coast over the holidays.
Let us live like there is no tomorrow.
Let us come out at night like a normal couple.
Let us be.
Normal, boring, and cliché
Let us play normal
And act like our opinions matter to each other.
Let us be a normal couple who decided not to hide their feelings behind phrases like ‘We are not the relationship type’.
Let us have one of those awkward moments at three am. Those that we sit on the bed in our ‘studio apartment’ staring at shadows or that dim light emanating from the radio at the corner, the silence between us almost tangible
Let me lean on his shoulder as we do that.
Let him walk away for genuine reasons. Why the double standards?
Let me walk away when he tires of the kisses on my forehead that he so generously gives.
Let him leave because I no longer turn him on. No longer inspire and ignite his spark.
Let us binge on pizza and wine and spend the next morning jogging for an hour from five am; trying to undo the damage. Let me drag him behind on those runs.
Let us strike a compromise that he gives me a twenty minutes head start. Or better still, let’s decide that I stick to skipping rope.
Let us feed on lettuce, tomatoes and spinach tomorrow, so we don’t feel guilty when reach for that tub of ice cream later.
Let me drown in my grief when he leaves.
Let me nurse my bleeding heart for the right reasons. And grief in peace
Let the love we have for each other be so strong it tears apart when it’s over.
Let him leave me wishing I would find one who so confidently says ‘no, don’t give her this. She prefers that’ for he has known things about me that I don’t.
Let me be comfortable asking for his help on things I could never ask you.
Let me smile when you mention his name.
Let me be vain, and petty.
Let me be a volcano; like every woman in love is.
Let me forgive him when he goes astray, as you would the one you love.
So, if my knight in shining armor gets here, and I happen to have been around a little longer than he will be, I will smile, and go ahead be the princess he saves on that midsummer night.

By:
Mary Wangari
Number : +254705615995
Email : wangarijskamau@gmail.com

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TEACHER JOYCE: BOY SCHOOL CHRONICLES 3

| PART ONE | PART TWO |

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LANG’ATA, NAIROBI
My head had not lost consciousness to the extent of not visualizing completely. I could see a blurred vision of a human figure at the door. I did not even want to think who it was. All I knew is that I was in safe hands. He stood there looking at me with those sharp chatoyant eyes. He got closer still fixed on my embodiment. I wanted him for sure. I wanted to feel his passion, his touch, his taste and his everything that he had to offer me. There was this spirit in me that was soo wanting at the moment. Despite having the drink to my occiput, I was able to move myself like a slithering snake towards his direction. The dim lights made just the right atmosphere. I do not know if it is my eyes that had the blur or was it the lighting. I just felt cool with the view.

He sat at the end of the couch that I was in. gradually; I crawled on fours towards where he was and hugged him from behind. I held his shoulders tightly as I feared I would trip over. The zeal in me was killing my system. My short dress had already coasted upwards towards the head of my femur bone but who cared? It was Josh and I. I mean, I wanted him. I bent his neck on the side and gave a moist peck on his neck. He twitched. I could feel the warmth in his skin. The engorged neck veins were sending a message. He was also getting into the mood despite not revealing it physically. I could see his toes curled up on the wooly-carpeted floor.

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PHANTOM 5

Previous Episodes

Parts | ONE | TWO | THREE| FOUR |

ghosts.jpg

This is part 5 of this story

Bella and Baron

I screamed soo loudly as I bow down my head in a bid to curb the pain inflicted on my fingers. The pain was too much to bear. I could feel the cartilage and collateral ligaments of my knee dancing to the excruciating pain forcing me to stay on the grimy floor as I writhed as a dying snake. My eyes were fixed on my broken finger as I visualized a white colored bone on it. It was broken. I mean, my finger was broken and it had exposed even the phalanges. I kept on wailing at the top of my voice until there was no sound coming from my mouth again. All my mouth and my facial muscles did were look like I was wailing but unfortunately, no sound could manage to come out.

‘My God!’ I screamed. What had he turned to? I mean, I thought Boyka was the one who had inscribed this utmost Satanism in him. At this moment, I had no doubt he was the real ‘proprietor’. I gazed at him. I was still crying at the top of my voice as I slowly writhed away from him. I could not even walk; I walked on my knees just like a toddler as I calculated to what extent I was to the door. All I wanted for now was to escape the whole mess that I had got myself into.

He slowly came forward and sat on his desk. He sat right on the place he had cut my finger on. To be much more vivid, his buttock had sat on my blood. I pushed myself quickly towards the corner near the door. I now feared him for sure. He was not going to help me at any cost. My heart was trembling so hard such that I could feel it beating. I gazed at him. I felt so bad for having assisted him get out of the club. This is what it cost me. To start with, I was naked, I hadn’t eaten a thing, I was smelling my own feaces , I had been roughed up, I had almost been raped and lastly, I had lost a finger. All this because of helping someone who I thought was my to-be boyfriend get home safely.

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BRUNT: THE PIMP’in VOYAGE

[THE DANGEROUS LIVES OF LONG DISTANCE TRUCK DRIVERS   ]

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Mombasa (Kwakiziwi Region)
Issa rolled on his king-sized bed with a bat’s eye and stretched his arm to the left switching off the noisy alarm. The time was 2am on Wednesday morning. His right hand was numb due to the spooning posture he had lain with his wife Alika. Alika in Swahili means ‘most beautiful’. He stealthy removed his arm from his wife’s bosom and sat on the bed; His feet touching the cold linoleum floor. He needed to be on his truck by 3am to kick off the long journey to Uganda. He was a truck driver whose return to home formulae had been critically disorganized. The last time he had managed to be home was 3 months ago. He had just arrived the previous night to meet his family; wife and two kids who are in nursery school. He had not even spent 24hrs at his vicinity. He was now getting ready to take off. Before he got out of the bed, Alika, his wife, tagged him using her leg.

‘Hey Babe? What’s up?’ she asked as she rubbed her eyes due to the effect of the bright fluorescent tube above them.
‘I have to be going. This is what we live on. It’s where I get my income.’ He responded as he stretched his hand and beckoned Alika to come closer. She was accustomed to these kind messages for some time now. She could not imagine the solitude-ness and how hard it was to stay without her husband for months. She had survived all the times. She felt it as a heavy burden on her. All in all, she had to agree to that fact.

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The Unfinished House 4

 

unfinished house

Part OnePart Two  |  Part Three |

 

Cain and Abby

 

They arrived at the homestead. She loved the compound at first sight. Cain walked ahead of her and opened the door for her letting her get inside. He later locked the door from behind. He directed her to the couch and made her comfortable by giving her some pieces of newspapers to read as he hurriedly walked into the kitchen. He quickly started preparing some tea while he checked other things to ensure they were ready e.g. Bread and blueband. In an African setting, like that of Cain, a visitor was welcomed with tea and bread no matter the hour of the day as he/she awaited the meal. This is what Cain was currently doing. 

 

Within 20 minutes, the tea was ready and since it was getting late, he quickly served her breakfast as he removed the newspapers she was engrossed in at the couch’s end. 

 

“Thank you, very much. This is so kind of you”. She said 

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PHANTOM 4

Previous Episodes👇

| THREETWO | ONE |

This is episode 4
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Bella and Baron
This was the third day. I hadn’t eaten a thing since the day I came. As they brought the food, I occasionally threw it on the walls of the dark room I was in. I was feeling the hunger deep inside me. I couldn’t continue anymore. I couldn’t bear the feeling. I had to eat. I told myself as I crawled towards the plate of food that had been placed at the doorstep on the floor. I held the plate in my arms and sat on the cold floor, it was cold. Very cold. I started eating the  contents that were on the plate. I didn’t know what they were. I kept eating as I was as hungry as a hyena that had been starved for days. Back home, I was an “eater”, so you Can imagine to what extent I had been suffering.

I couldn’t imagine Baron had done this to me. I looked at myself and felt very ashamed. I had been used. How could I be here while I was trying to help Him get at my home safely? Why do Bad things happen to good people?  I kept asking myself rhetorical questions now and then.

After about one hour, I put the empty plate on the ground and tried getting up.

“OH shit ” I had soiled myself. The clothes I had previous night when they had tried to cut of my neck were still on me. I would feel the heaviness of my Abdomen especially my bum. I had to remove the clothes. I slowly got up and slowly removed my entire clothes. I used the clean parts of the undressed clothes as tissue paper. I was clean though the smell inside the room had already intensified.
I started walking around in my birth suit. I couldn’t stand the stench around the room. I started banging the door as I tried to look for an exit. I also thought by banging the door, someone would come and would Give me clothes to wear. I kept banging the door continuously until I got tired. No one was answering my calls. I sat at the far most corner away from my undressed clothes. I hunched up my knees such that my head got in between my knees. I covered my head with my hands and stayed still.

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