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CHAPTER 17
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2024-10-29 19:42:56Sandra pulled the shirt of Solomon’s uniform above his head and frowned as her stomach grumbled. She was terribly hungry turned to Visha, seeing her struggle with the button of her skirt. She popped the bottom and Visha pushed down her skirt. “Lovey, I’m hungry”
“Me too” Solomon seconded.
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Seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours, hours to days, and days to weeks… Sandra knew the sound of silence. It is the loud echo of nothingness which deafens the ears even when there are voices all around. There was a stabbing pain in her little heart that wouldn’t go away, no matter how hard she tried. She should have talked to him when she had the chance. She should have told him how much he meant to her; definitely should have told him that she loved him so much. She should have been there, been there with him in the hospital, holding his hand as he grabbed ferociously onto the reins keeping him alive. She should have been the cord that held him together; she should have been his anchor… like he had been to her, her whole life.
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HEY! IT'S STILL ME. CHUCKA. I'M NOT AWAY. I WOUUD'NT WANT YOU FEEL SAD WITH MORE OF MY MISHAPS. HERE'S MORE INTRESTING STUFF ABOUT THE LIFE OF SOLOMON. NEVERTHELESS, I'M COMING BACK. CATCH YA!TWENTY YEARS LATER..Solomon dusted his shoe as he picked up his phone from the couch in the living room. His daughter Alicia had gone for the holidays to his grandmother's place while his wife had gone to the groceries. He eaved a sigh of freedom. It wasn't like his family was an inconvenience to him, he was glad he would have more than enough time for himself. It was a Friday afternoon and according to norms, the bank he worked closed by 1:00 pm. That's more than enough time to flex after a tiresome week. He pulled off his socks and unbuckled his belt. He left his trouser to fall halfway almost touching his knees. He moved towards the television cabinet. "Holla! Thank God is Friday Nigga" He yelled, throwing his arms up in the air. He needed to e
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"Granny!.. granny!" Alicia called out in excitement. She had some piece of bread in her mouth. They were having breakfast at the dining table."Yes, dear" Mama Gloria sipped from a mug of tea."Tell me something, maybe a gist, a story, or whatever. I just want to discuss with you Mama, any." She said with curiosity."But you know is wrong to talk while having a meal yeah?""I know" she cut in."They had Alicia's best food that morning. Alicia continued ravishing loaves of bread. She made sandwiches with the slices and scrambled eggs. she crushed each piece in her mouth, sipping her tea. She more than she could ch
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"Babe, why are you doing this to me?"Solomon rushed to meet Selena before she reached the door and go out to work."Doing what exactly? Mister man, leave me alone. Wouldn't I go to work? Do I look like a full housewife? I am a career woman and I'm late to work already. Darling excuse me of the daily drama this morning". She gawked at him."It's really not fair. It's not fair at all! Why are you depriving me of the love I deserve? You claim to be a lover of God and the Bible yet you ignorant of the verse which says; DO NOT DEPRIVE YOURSELVES OF EACH OTHER. Career woman my foot! You go out to work every day from 6:00 AM till 7:30 PM at night. Who does that? You spend more time at work than with family. It isn't a responsible thing to do for a family woman. What if Alice was around? Would it be the same
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"Gloria, I've reviewed the poem you submitted for the entry. I must say, it was okay... But it didn't fit the theme of this year's competition. Besides, the poem had a lot of grammatical errors and a lack of figures of speech. Like I said earlier, you are the major talent we are relying upon, the others are just backups. Take this new poem," she handed or piece of paper to me."I know you must have been cramming the one you wrote yourself earlier. Sorry, you would have to unlearn them and begin to get this one into your brain, rehearsals begin next week!"I felt sad after Mrs. Stella turned down my poetry work. At least, she should have corrected the errors and fix in all the literary devices she wanted. Even at most, she should have told me to go and make up another poem entirely, not giving me the one someone else wrote. I believed that was plagiarism because I will be performing spoken-word poetry of a work I didn't compose by myself. Absurd!" Sharon,
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