Something crazy I’m trying…. It is night. Not too cold or windy, and not too noisy either. Just the way I like it. I look up at the sky, and the full moon stares at me in return. I can see a few stars keeping it company. From various rooms in the blocks … Continue reading Timmy
33 You have work to do. What kind of work?’ The one you have been doing you numbskull. You think your job is over? You still have not finished!!! ‘But-’ NO BUTS!!! He whimpers. Quit your whimpering and get on it. ‘But I’m at work!’ IF YOU QUESTION ME AGAIN, I WILL TAKE YOUR … Continue reading WHISPERS OF THE SANDMAN-Excerpt 2
24 “So we know that explosives were involved, right?” Jerry asked. “Yes,” James said. “It’s been confirmed, although there’s going to be some analysis.” Jerry nodded. They were still within the building. Both he and James wore waterproof bags over their shoes, tied down with rubber, and they also wore rubber gloves. The whole place … Continue reading Whispers Of The Sandman (Novel Excerpt)
Okay. The following is by no means complete. It was written by me, in a frenzy (as always) sometime last year. Stumbled across a writing prompt requesting me to do 500 words, and as usual, I exceeded the limit. Well, hope I entertain y’all, and maybe scare you in the process as well…..
Well, here goes nothing…..
Reading Chimamanda Adichie’s ‘HALF OF A YELLOW SUN’ (which has been a brilliant book so far), has made me realize one thing: Nigeria, as a country, has not left the days of the Civil War. Physically, we might be in 2011. However, PSYCHOLOGICALLY, we have never left those hot, hard days of pain and strife, … Continue reading Of Blood and War…
11 When he couldn’t cry anymore, Chike sat up. He felt an odd clarity now, like he’d cried everything out; his fears, his worries. She’d said he wouldn’t get out, right? Well, she wouldn’t get out either. Slowly but methodically, Chike searched the kitchen with his eyes. They settled on two large cylinders in … Continue reading The Wet Child (5)
8 A strangled sound escaped Chike’s lips as he fell back on his ass. He scrambled backwards in a bid to get away, and he hit the table and chair behind him. Yelping, he got up and bolted for the door. He pushed the door… …and it didn’t budge. Chike glanced down at the door, … Continue reading The Wet Child (4)
5 I am seriously going mad, Chike thought, shuffling backwards on his ass; he didn’t even notice he’d fallen to the floor. Then his hand struck the washing machine, bringing back the pain. Chike bolted upright and climbed the bench, simultaneously holding his hand and trying to pass through the wall and out of … Continue reading The Wet Child (3)
3 With the washing machine now doing its work, Chike took off his jacket, then brought out his novel. He’d been on the first story for about 2 weeks now. Well, he was not to blame. School work was just too much right now, and he always found the whole thing funny anytime he … Continue reading The Wet Child (2)
1 Chike opened his eyes, and remained in bed until the rest of his body woke up. He looked at his window; the gap between his curtains told him the sun was gonna be out in full force soon. He must have overslept. Again. And he was supposed to go to the laundry this … Continue reading The Wet Child (1)
In Loving Memory of Ifeanyi Azuka ‘St. Fishie’ Churchill Adindu…. Yesterday I lost my closest friend, Yesterday I wanted time to end, I wonder if my heart will ever mend, I just let you slip away… -Lost Prophets=4. a.m. Forever “Do you hear that? Do you hear that, son?” “What’s that daddy?” “That’s … Continue reading Swansong (1)
Falling is the last thing you feel… Standing on this rooftop, the world is nothing but your chess-board. At least that is what it has been. The wind in your hair, lazily burrowing furrows. You look up at the sky, inhale deeply. You exhale. You feel all tension go. You feel loose. You want … Continue reading The Mental Hallways Of An Assassin
It is dark, and it is quiet. Night-time has come, and here I am, walking home, tired, dejected, alone. Down this bush path I walk, in a bid to avoid the madness of the streets. It is my only hope of survival, this bush path. If only I can make it home unnoticed. I look … Continue reading For A Vote
Martial Arts. The Way of the Warrior. Ancient fighting arts that have been around for so long that the origin of most of them have become blurred. The ancient and popular arts of Karate, Taekwondo, Kung-Fu, Aikido, Judo, Ju-Jitsu, Ninjitsu, Hapkido, Capoeira, Kenjutsu. The off-shoots of the ancient arts; Kick-boxing, Muay Thai. The plain esoteric … Continue reading The Way Of The Warrior…..and The Fun Within
Schipol International Airport, Amsterdam . From above, the large sprawling expanse looked like a small city. A song by the popular rock band U2 came to mind as I looked out through the window; City of Blinding Lights. This seemed to fit the description of what I was seeing. The whole airport appeared to be … Continue reading The Journal 2