All I can think of is no, no, no mother, she is not sweet and kind. You don’t know this, but she has tried to kill you twice, you can’t want her as a daughter-in-law.
Tag Archives: SHORT STORY
YARROW
The evening looks cheerful as I watch the six of them down shots of whiskey one after another, their laughter drowning in the loud afro-fusion unleashed by the DJ. I look at the glass of apple juice in my hand and sigh. I don’t belong in this place full of strobe lights, lined up shots,Continue reading “YARROW”
THE MAN AT THE CORNER
You can call me paranoid, but I believe that even you would be scared. If you met a man at the corner who stares at you intently as you approach and as you leave, you’d be scared too. So, I have decided to move house. Tsk, hear me out. I moved to Witness Suites aContinue reading “THE MAN AT THE CORNER”
LAST PAINTING
“Pass that to me.” She said while pointing at a silver lighter on the floor near the ash tray filled with half smoked cigarettes and two unopened packets of the same. I adjusted my trench coat before picking up the lighter. “Did you smoke all these today?” I asked and with a small smileContinue reading “LAST PAINTING”
ZEKE
“A sequel to RAGGED GOLD” (Here is a link to Ragged Gold, if you haven’t read it already: http://smmwords.blog/2022/01/16/ragged-gold/) I swing my office chair, my eyes closed. A small smile grazes my lips as I remember her cheeky smile. Marylin… We never talked, but she dropped her cards next to my feet enough times forContinue reading “ZEKE”
RAGGED GOLD
I don’t understand it, but neither will I fight it. The feelings I have towards the young man who wears the same torn, blue jeans and black shirt six days in a week. The man with the longest unkempt dreads that really need a good wash. The fella that sits by the fruit vendor atContinue reading “RAGGED GOLD”
JOURNAL OF THIS KENYAN WOMAN
“Not as a feminist, but as a female” Dear Journal, I am sorry to wake you this late in the night. I wanted to come and weave these words earlier, but I had so many words and little ink to sort them into sensible structures. Well, right now I am here because I want toContinue reading “JOURNAL OF THIS KENYAN WOMAN”
“CALL ME DADDY”
“Anita, call me Daddy.” Anthony whispered. I felt pure anger as I listened to him. The grip on my phone tightened with every word he uttered. The Audacity!! How can that man come back to our lives and act as if nothing happened? No, I refuse to call him Daddy. I refuse to call himContinue reading ““CALL ME DADDY””