And you say to me time and again "you're as hard as nails"
I look into your eyes, those soft brown pools I'd drown in without regret
That bring to mind molten chocolate and the pleasures it brings
And wonder "how can you be so blind"
It's hard to believe you can't see beyond the window dressing
Beyond the flash of diamond plating, I had such faith in you...
To the person who carries scars of forgotten wars
To the soul and heart beating in the shell of bronzed steel
Well you're only human, aren't you?
The stories in this blog are first draft stories with minimal editing, sort of like a practice blog.
Monday, 27 October 2014
She's waving to the crowd; a plastic toothy smile firmly in place, her tiara reflecting the flashes of camera bulbs. She's just been crowned Miss Africa beating out fifty other contestants. Her eye catches that of Amb Zumokolo, he responds with a leer that hardens her eyes. She dismisses the twat from her mind, she'd only stood the midget to wear this tiara, stooping to conquer. Listening to Kris drone on and on about literary classics wasn't an entire waste of time and brains.
Tuesday, 14 October 2014
The voices roused him from the fitful and deep sleep, he'd been dreaming of eating fried rice and dodo with spicy grilled chicken and washing it down with sangria laced fruit juice. He could discern snatches of yoruba, ibo and pidgin English, their voices were heated. "What are they quarrelling about by 5am" he wondered aloud as he walked to his balcony to get a good view of the drama.