Delilah’s Laps

Charlie stood resting his back on the mango tree’s bark. He looked frazzled, he looked drained, he was exhausted. He could no longer bear the heat, the smile of the sun was so tormentous! It seemed like the earth had been thrown into hell and its elements were now cooking in the fire, or roasting perhaps. Its smile was so powerful! Or was it laughing? Yes! it was laughing, oh yes! Laughing, the sun was laughing at him, a laughter of mockery perhaps, the type which reminds him of his horrible pathetic life.
His brown face had creased into a strong irritating ugly frown. Perhaps a frown at the sun’s sarcasm, or at nature’s cruelty to his life, or perhaps, a frown at himself, oh yes! At himself, for listening to the deceitful voice of Delilah, and for resting his head on her ambush of laps!
Yes! It is Delilah! Delilah, the cause of his misery, oh Delilah! The night that seeks to consume the day! Delilah, that darkness that attempts to becloud the light! Delilah, the cat who would hide its claws just to gain the trust of the mouse. As beautiful as roses are, she is, but with their beautiful petals come their injurious piercing thorns! Alas, Charlie’s head was trapped in the beauty-coated horrible laps of Delilah, trapped forever. Tears crystallized his eyes as he peered into the past.
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Charlie felt Shallom was the most beautiful thing he had and would ever behold back then in his university days. He was a student of fine-art and had been introduced to her by his friend, Bob, as the school’s most gifted singer, and indeed she was a charming vocalist. Her voice was angelic, her voice was magnetic, Shallom sang with so much passion, she sang like she would die without music, like music was her life. Shally made music in the university look like the best course anyone could ever study. Students missed classes just to go and hear her magic voice in school musical concerts.
One thing was her voice, and another was her looks. Shallom was an extra-ordinary beauty. The hairs of her head were long, wavy and pitch-black. Her eyes mocked the whiteness of snow, and when she laughed, her pink fleshy lips opened to expose her glittering white dentition. The radiance of her smooth fair skin aroused the desire to feel its softness. She was so curvy! Her figure was a perferct number eight; all protrudings and curves in their perfect degrees. Surely, Shallom was one great example of God’s artistic nature. She would always dress to kill; her full fresh laps, her well rounded breasts and buttocks were never hidden as she always wore clothes that grabbed her very tightly or those that permitted a glimpse of sensitive parts of her body arousing curiousity of a full nude view. She was so devilishly irresistible and alluring. She was a dangerous flirt, but Charlie was so blown away by the wind of lust and couldn’t percieve that this was one big ambush.
Charles was an orphan who had lost both parents and all siblings in an auto-crash at the age of seventeen in which he had miraculously survived with minor injuries. Ever since, he’d been catering for himself and God’s grace had been so sufficient as his painting business thrived.
Warnings of friends fell on deaf ears. Only Shally he saw, only Shally he heard, only Shally he dreamt, only Shally he knew. He had designed his little art gallery with several paintings of Shally, his newly found girlfriend; it was the zenith of his lustful madness. But the yoke was soon broken as he soon strolled into his fiasco.
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Bit by bit, Charlie lost his sanity, he couldn’t believe his ears. The words of Doctor Richard kept echoing in his head
” You are HIV positive…. ”
Every atom of strength seemed to have been sapped out of him. It was too late. He had long past the shallow parts of the forest of Delilah’s laps and had gone deep into its hearth, now he couldn’t find his way out, he was lost forever in the decietful laps of Delilah…..
Shally, Delilah, disappeared, no one could tell where she went. Every means to contact her proved abortive. She was gone, and all Charlie’s money had followed suit. He wept. If only tears could amend ruins, his could have, but no, the deed was done. And no one was willing to lend a listening ear. He was finished…. for real.
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Charles was channelled back into the present by the loud terrific groan of the sky. The sun had gone down, drifting away for the loud roarings of the sky backed up by its harsh chilling freezing breath. Charles looked up, he sensed the anger of the sky at him, he had to leave immediately for his dwelling place. But he had barely taken five steps when the long cruel whips from the sky began descending upon him…



9 thoughts on “Delilah’s Laps” by Ezeama Chijioke Desmond (@Chijy)

  1. Wow this is a powerful read. You delivered with your descriptions. Well done

    1. Thanks @ivie. Glad to hear that

  2. Too bad, nice story… Keep it up

  3. wow! Delilah for Charlie.

  4. Real Delilah. Stole his money and gave him AIDS kaii.
    Nice story all that glitters is not gold, some are zinc.

    1. It’s really funny. Men know this fact but they keep falling into tje trap. Thanks for the comment @amina

  5. I meant ‘the’ and not ‘tje’. Thanks once again

  6. Ahhh… the perils of lust. I particularly like the contrast you used with the heat beating down in the beginning and rain lashing him at the end. Good stuff.

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