
Handicap
I am swarthy, swarthier than Udogwugwu’s impassive countenance. Every night I lie, like a green snake skulking its predator’s sward-surrounded purlieus, in apprehensive anticipation of day. My hazel eyes are Granny’s snuff store; my nasal bore Ojadili’s fetish-flute. Little children can, for firewood, fetch my gnarled legs. My visage is bumpy, with a … Continue reading Handicap