I looked at my wristwatch for the umpteenth time. Women keeping men waiting is a norm, true. Still, I couldn’t for the life of me now phantom how I had tolerated the extent to which she took liberty with this tradition. And for six good months. No doubt, those six months had been good, really good. Recently however, I had the feel of a man who’d been rudely awakened from bliss. Couldn’t deny to myself that I hadn’t always suspected it to be just what it was – a dream.
An average of twenty-five minutes. That was about how long it usually took her to get from her dorm room on the second floor to our rendezvous – the closest mini-park; even when I’d called her an hour before hand. It really was barely a stone throw away, and yet she’d now kept me waiting for forty-five minutes. In the old days, when I was still head over heels in love, I would have by now grown frantically worried.
“Had she tripped while coming down the staircase?”
“Had one of my ex-girlfriends finally given in to jealousy and accosted her at just this moment?”
“Or had one of those idiot drivers who buzzed around campus at unbelievable speeds buzzed into her and she was right now writhing in pain at the health center, unable to communicate to me her distress?”
Categories: Lil Pieces of Fiction
Tags: Betrayal, break up, campus, Infidelity, love, love spot, Lust, Rendezvous, Romance, the other woman, Two Timing
Whenever they talk about it, they say I was raped. But I don’t agree. When I tell them that, they say I’m in denial.
The truth is that there was no physical coercion; no clothes were torn off. In fact, he never touched me.
And also, he was a gentleman. I guess that was the problem. He conducted himself with the utmost propriety. It wasn’t that he was trying to be deceitful, that’s really how he was.
We met in a most ordinary manner – at a bus stop. I’m not sure what was different about him. I turned and he was there. Thus began our whirlwind romance.
The hilarious thing was how everybody loved him. He was sweet. The kind who loves your mother and plays with your younger siblings. And he was a looker.
I’m lying on the floor, bleeding. He is sitting in a chair and smiling at me. Continue reading
It wasn’t meant to sting, but it stung nonetheless. Not the whispers behind my back, not the thinly concealed mockery, but the words flung at my face. An accusation begging denial. My breathing comes in short gasps, and I cannot find the words to refute them. The accusations hang in the air, and I let them, sagging my shoulders in shame.
My sigh is one of despair. This is all I can do to stop the groan of sadness rising up within me. My first thought is to run and hide, but that won’t do. Nor will my next thought – to throw caution to the wind and fly like a kite without a home.
“You think too much!” he yells at me, as he unsuccessfully tries to slide his hand between my thighs.
“You need to let go and experience things…” his murmurs meet my unyielding lips. Continue reading
Categories: Private Journal
Tags: desire, Fulfillment, Indecision, love, men, Romance, seduce, seduction, Virgin, Womanhood, woo
I still couldn’t help noticing the lusciousness of her full lips as she spoke the words.
I noticed still, how smoothly her lips moved when she spoke; as though English were her mother tongue. I was taking in the perfect symmetry of the lines of her face when the words sunk in; they did. I’d been expecting this for exactly two weeks. Dreading it, and yet praying for it. Continue reading
Categories: Lil Pieces of Fiction
Tags: Beauty, black, break up, itz, Kume, love, make up, Making out, Nigerian, Prose, Romance, short piece, short story, Susan, University Story