Archive | December, 2012

Tuesday the 16th

17 Dec

Sunrise that fateful morning was earlier than usual, ushering a day filled with warmth. Omo tossed and turned on the bed, unsure of what he would see on opening his eyes. The rays of the early morning sun streamed into the room, momentarily blinding him ad he opened his eyes, he squinted and shielded his eyes with his palm, groped round for a pillow and placed it over his head but he was already awake.
The stench from the vomit hit him strongly like a punch to the stomach, he rolled over as if to stand up but no sooner had his feet touched the ground that he swore loudly
‘What the f**k?’ He just stepped into a pile of wet clothes. The cold forced his eyes wide open and nothing could have prepared him for the scene that met his eyes. The room looked like a drunk, mad person’s abode, piles of clothing were haphazardly placed everywhere, no distinction between clean and dirty ones. Packs and cartons of groceries and unfinished meals were strewn over the floor, he felt so irritated he almost vomited. For a person like him who had OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder), this was a living nightmare.
The bed he just woke up on was the height of it all, the bedsheet had several marks and stains on it, cigarette ashes, spilled beer, spittle, oily stains and some that could only be as a result of recent sexual activity.

Omo couldn’t believe his eyes, he immediately squatted at an unlaid corner of the bed to properly survey his surrounding, using his shirt to cover his nose. several articles of women nothing were placed on the dressing mirror or what looked like it. The dressing mirror had obviously seen better times, the mirror was caked with dust and only a small circle in the middle was clean enough to be used, the dresser had already fallen apart but several planks of wood were attached to keep it upright. A gust of wind from the open window blew the stench of the vomit towards him again & he darted his eyes round, making a choking sound as he tried to locate it while wishing it came from outside the room.
He saw the body before he saw the vomit or part of it at the body’s feet as there was more at her mouth.

‘Hello ma’am’ his voice came out muffled from the covering over his mouth ‘are you alright?’.
She was lying face down on the floor beside the door which was why his eyes missed her at first, the wind must have blown the door open which made him see her clearly. He inched towards the edge of the bed, made as if to touch her but decided against it. She was too dirty for him to touch her with his bare hands, wrapping his hands with his shirt, he stretched to rough her feet, never leaving the part of the bed where he squatted.
‘Lady, pls get up’ he called out, shaking her feet all to no avail.

Omo was petrified, he hoped against hope that the lady wasn’t dead, heck he was yet to figure out how he got himself into this mess, who was the woman? Where was this place? and why on earth hasn’t he made a move to get out of the room?.
No sooner had this thought cross his mind that he became immobile, he looked on in horror ad a swarm of cockroaches found their way out of the many crevices and cracks in the room.
‘Lady, wake up….’ his voice was cut off by an unseen hand, he tried to move his arms, fighting off the unseen enemy but all came to naught. He tried to close his eyes and shut out the scene, but his eyes were pried open, he could only watch as the roaches drew closer, totally engulfing the body on the floor until there was nothing left. It was like everything they came in contact with disintegrated into more of them.
In no time, they flooded the room, the only place left untouched was the bed on which he was squatting, the roaches as if with a mind of their own started gathering, until they formed a human shape. Despite his fruitless attempt to shut his eyes, the shape morphed into that of a real naked woman, with flesh covering, a very beautiful one at that. At this sight, Omo almost passed out but was jolted awake by the touch of the cockroache-lady form, her touch felt slippery and soft, but lacked the warmth of a human.

She leaned towards him, her lips aimed at his and try as he may, there was no avoiding it, he was about to get kissed by a creature formed from a swarm of cockroaches, in a place that he had no idea how he got there. He tried to move his head but was shocked at how rigid and stiff.it had become, his eyes were bulging out of their sockets, he could feel the touch of her palm on his face as she tilted her head to plant him a kiss with a mouthful of cockroaches.

Omo jumped up from the bed, drenched from head to feet in his own sweat. The rays of the sun blinded him momentarily and he shielded his face with his palm ing his vision was clear.
‘Phew, what a dream’ he sighed, looking around the room, finding solace in how meticulously arranged his clothes were, his shoes neatly arranged and polished. His reading table looked the same, books arranged in order of importance, lamp perfectly positioned to shine just enough light to read and not too bright to hurt his eyes.
‘Alas……’ he began but was cut short as he heard a scurrying sound, he could only look on as a cockroach came out of one of his shoes, then another, and yet another, then he screamed….!!!

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Coat Wrinkler

1 Dec

Sturdy as a Trunk
Bunchy at the Elbow
Ne’er your trust to flunk
Trustworthy as a good old willow

An arm that steadies
When the road is rough and thorny
Seeing me through, ever ready
To support me through my journey

An arm that retrieves
In times when life deals a bad hand
All hope seems lost and the soul grieves
It’s there to lend an ever supporting hand

An arm that helps
Not only when the going gets rough
But when the soul is at its happiest
To caution gently, but ever tough

An arm that was practice
When I was younger
An arm that is support
Now that I’m older

It is the greatest gift ever
One that has no replica
Given from father to daughter
It’s strength never falters
And from father to son
To be passed on and on

A father’s arm

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