Lagos, 2017
KELVIN:Hey! How are you doing? I finally came back! I missed talking to you! How have things been going on your side?BELLA:
Hey! Good morning! Or afternoon to you I think! It is great to see you back. I missed you!KELVIN:
I missed you too. Good afternoon!BELLA:
It is 7 am here and I'm hooking up my morning coffee drip. The weather is really not that bad. I am sure you can relate with the feeling of the weather. It feels cold but it isn't. I think the weather is in a good mood today.KELVIN:
So, do you have a pipe inside your body? That is great! Honestly, it is!BELLA:
I don't have a pipe inside my body! Coffee is great! Lol! All day long! I never see the need to sleep.KELVIN:
You seem happy today. That is a good trait.BELLA:
I suppose so.. every once in a while it happens. I guess I am happy today because you finally came back. It is always great to reunite with a long lost friend even if he hasLagos, 2022Kelvin stopped listening, feeling fear for the first time. He had not thought that the message sent to him using a foreign number was a solution to his love problem with Sharon. A solution that came with a price. How could he explain to Ifenna that the gift Maria had given to him during his last trip to America was greatly desired by a group of people who tagged themselves as members of a secret organization called the 'Priory of Göteborg'? Oh, Lord! He was drunk. The members of the 'Priory of Göteborg' were all drunk to think he would accept their offer and take the life of Ifenna because of love. How could he? The instructions he had gotten from them was clear and simple. Take the necklace and eliminate the target. But how could he do that when he was greatly attached to Ifenna in ways that the members of the Brotherhood didn't understand? How could someone who knew absolutely nothing about his life choose him as a tool to achieve their quest? What
Pennsylvania, 2022Not once during the five days following the explanation behind Uju and Abby's death had an image of their dead bodies buried underneath the ground come into Maria's mind. She had thought about it bitterly until she could no longer cry or think again. She had thrust the whole scene back and forth, and there it still lay, monstrous, horrible and terrifying as it had been before. She was not much of a believer but she believed in the power of words and truth. And to think that her ancestral father, James Blackwheel who she had never met was involved in their deaths made her feel awful and sad. She was not so much in a bad stupor or in a wayward lane with brown leaves falling quickly with no end. She was in a bizarre situation where she saw Uju and Abby begging for their lives and being punished for doing so.Having been briefed by Detective Doe about the incident that had kept her in the dark, she made a quick call to Clark with the hope that he would answe
Pennsylvania, 2022Maria sat very still, listening and not listening. She was looking at the face of the man who had come in place of James Blackwheel, to ask for her forgiveness and understanding. If someone had asked her to repeat the words of the preacher, she would not have been able to do so without making a single mistake because she didn't understand what he meant when he told her to forgive and forget. She didn't understand the ease he felt as he let those words slide out from his tongue as if it would take away all the atrocities that James Blackwheel had committed in his life. But she felt and sensed the genuineness in the preacher's voice and she saw meaning as she tried to reason in the same plain he was reasoning. As the preacher talked more about forgiveness and its positive impact in the modern society, a vast dark silent void lifted away from her eyes and she could see familiar images which grew large and powerful; familiar images of Blackwheel planting hi
Kano, 2022There was no light. There was no sound. There was no imaginary figure running around his mind and playing games with him. The road that was up above him was clear and black. Fear, Ifenna now realized, was an intense rush of displeasure that motivated a man to run for the security of his own life. Short of breath, he fumbled through the blackness towards the road, almost staggering, almost allowing the image of seeing Kelvin raising a gun and shooting at him revolve around his head. He found a soft spot and made an attempt to rest when he realized that he had to make sure that Jane was safe. But how could he reach her when he couldn't remember where he had last seen his phone? Just then, as he was thinking about the location of his phone, an alarm he had set up in his phone about a week ago to make sure he attended all the morning exercises class rang. He reached out towards his left pockets and brought his phone out. He smiled as he felt grateful that some unfo
Chibuzor Victor Obih was born in the southern part of Nigeria. Delta State to be precise. His writing includes essays, poetry and short stories. He likes to play soccer, read, study and above all, write. He is currently a fourth year student of a renowned public university in Nigeria. The University of Port-Harcourt is where he is pursuing a bachelor's degree in Mechanical Engineering. The Last Full Moon is his third book and his third attempt to explore the beautiful world of a novelist.
There is no greater way to write a book than to write it in the manner it wants to be written. You may feel the need to cultivate a story with a good ending and still end up messing around with the plot as the story unfolds. It was not until I realized that there was a way to tell a story without actually paying reference to the cause that I first thought seriously of writing this story. Three items of my experience combined to make me become aware of the presence of a life form that moves freely in the dark without being noticed. Before I begin this story, I must pay some respect to three wonderful women in my life that has shaped the existence of this story. I honor Leah Fisher for her undying contribution and unmatched love. I honor Rooman Tariq for her constant reminders and unending praise. Finally, I honor Lyv Aiken for her professionalism and years of creative experience. Without their help, this story would have been nothi
Göteborg, 1781As the bell rang to signify the end of the meeting, Blackwheel held his wrist tightly as a sign of respect for the newly elected leader of the brotherhood. Close to him was his wife and children who had managed to accept his kind invitation despite having a family dinner with his wife's parents.When he reached the exit of the building, he turned to take another look at the piece of architecture that had relentlessly endured foreign threats for the past three decades. This ageless sanctuary in Göteborg had been a home for people of his kind, people who came alive when the full moon was at its peak.Blackwheel lowered his gaze as he saw a slender man approaching him. He wore a leather coat and had an almost comical curling mustache. His appearance was not something he would fancy on a regular day."My name is Oskar," the man said in a rough Swedish accent, "and I am here to advice you on certain issues concerning your recent visit to the c
Igboland, 1781The first feeling of discernment may not be easy to deal with. Living alone in the outskirt of a large village where everyone interacted with each other but avoided a particular person based on some rules is even harder to deal with. The loud cry of condemnation can terrify a human soul to the point of suicide.The village in the east was not far from the village in the west but they did not live in harmony because of an ancient history that told tales of wars with bitter endings. Apart from the village that lived in the north, the village in the east was not at peace with any other village. True, they had large farms with fertile loamy soils that could turn a yam tendril into a full-blown adult at one thrust. Still, they didn't have the capacity to maintain order in their village.The time for wars had come and gone. Men were only interested in drinking to stupor. Women were only interested in distinguishing between old clothes and new ones. C