Archive for June, 2012

For Chioma.

Does the new template look nice?

Pranked. Courtesy of @Uberbetty and I.


Today’s post is a poem. Enjoy.

Wooden beads black and round
From the first time they held hands
Lips moved and thoughts told without sound
As fingers drew hearts in the sand

The yellow walls reflected her joy
As they sat by the fireplace
Disaffected by the world’s never ending ploys
A single shadow shared in quiet solace

The fights, they started small
Words thrown around and resolved in haste
And then they grew tall
And laid her love to waste

Between her legs, where others cavorted
Remained closed to him
So he took his keys and his wallet
And buried himself in gin

He screamed and shouted, shrieked and growled
She didn’t flinch, she’d never repent
Her ears deaf to his tortured howls
He crawled into the corner, when he was spent

His breaths are short and harried
Because alas, the pain hasn’t tarried
He has warred and he has prayed
But all for naught, she will not stay

Hearts break like cheap china
Hearts break like cheap china
Day breaks awash with desire
But hearts break like cheap china.

Happy Short story day Africa! In honor of today’s celebrations, I decided to try a challenge, I put my phone of shuffle and wrote flash fiction around the themes of the first four songs that played. (Scout’s honor, I didn’t cheat, lol). So here are the stories, 120 words or less.

Come Away With Me – Norah Jones

I’ll sit by the last stoop, and wait. I won’t mind the rain that trickles and turns my hair into droopy strings or the cold that makes my bones chatter, and wait. I’ll keep my eyes away from the beautiful horizon filled with grey clouds that glow and flash with lightning and keep my eyes on the muddy path, and wait. I’ll notice the shoes that splatters mud on the other travellers and then the pants, glued to beautiful legs by the rivulets of rain water, the outline of shoulders and your frantic eyes looking out for me, and I’ll smile. I will elope, with no one but you.

Love Will Tear Us Apart – Nerina Pallot.

Our bed holds no warmth, my pillow is soaked with tears. You sleep so soundly, I’m a little envious. How do you sleep through my crying every night? The baby’s sniffling in the other room but I can’t hear him. What have you done to me? What have you turned me into? I clutch my pillow over my face and sob. You stir and turn towards me, and then you sigh when you see me crying. You leave the bed and walk to the other room to comfort your child. Your child, because post-partum depression has robbed me of the joy of being a mother.

Sunday, Bloody Sunday – Paramore

They’re all running, left, right, jumping across the gutters away from the tarred road. I want to follow but my legs are too short. Mama always used to help me across but now I can’t find her. I start to run along the street, there’s a plank down the road that I can use to cross. I can hear sirens but I don’t know where its coming from. Where’s mama? Mama oh, where are you? Boom! Gun! Oh God! Mama? Mama? I’m almost at the plank. Thank God! I start crossing and stop when I see it. Not an it, a him, inside the gutter, bent over with blood all over his shirt. I scream!

There for you – Flyleaf

What is she doing here? How did this happen under our noses? The nurse leading us to the room whispers that we shouldn’t be afraid, everyone here is under the appropriate drugs, they won’t harm us. She looks so knowledgable in her white shift, not like our check pinafores that single us out as amateur nursing students. Still I can’t help shuddering when they look at me from the small windows in their doors, and feeling bad that I think of them as less than human. She opens the door and points to the bald thing curled up in the corner of the room.
“That’s your friend.” She says.

On Fathers

For Paternak

A father’s day post is sort of impromptu but the muse moves and I must obey. Its hard being a man, so many rules, so many constraints, so many expectations. The rules change right before your very eyes and your actions have such far reaching consequences it is almost paralyzing. Sometimes its easy to forget that men are human too, as flawed and weak as the women we love and care for, conceive and raise. Many are too weak to stay, some get swept away under the intensities of life. A father is charged with protecting his spawn, defending them and instilling values into them, being the voice of unwavering authority, the facilitator and fixer upper. In all this, the father is somehow expected to know that he should be gentle and kind, find a way to show unconditional love and instill so much trust in his child that nothing is too much to be shared. Some fathers are lucky enough to strike a natural balance but some fathers end up going to extremes. Having had quite a few intense friendships, I have seen first hand how hard it is to be there unconditionally without murking up your principles or becoming a yes man.

I grew up with two fathers, intriniscally the same but vastly different in their approach to life and love. And I have inherited traits from both, some which I fight and some which I emulate. But today’s post is not about me or my childhood but about the people I hold dear. There’s this girl I know, who has had to be her own father because the depression she struggles with every single day is too much for a single mother with three other children to bear. Somehow she still finds the strength to be there for others, share a smile and a word of advice for those who needs it. She has her down days when she privately retreats and fights the voices in her head, but she always come out stronger because she knows there are others who are weaker than she is, people she needs to be strong for. There’s this boy I know who has had to live through the deaths of the patriachs in his family and the void their absence created, yet somehow he still looks out for the best in others, even the self destructive ones. He gives all for his friends, never afraid to be the voice of dissent or the one who won’t toe the line everyone else is. People think of him as reclusive or elitist but he doesn’t let the chatter worry him, he is confident in who he is and isn’t afraid to live as his values dictate. I know this man who is ever cheerful and willing to make a new friend, willing to offer a word of advice from his vast experience and be a shoulder when it is needed. Sometimes his ‘cheerfulness’ irritates me and I withdraw but just knowing that he’ll listen is a comfort. There’s this friend of mine whose weaknesses remind me that people are flawed, he is so smart and insightful but has these moments of selfishness that make me realise how human we really are. How flawed men can be if we don’t check ourselves every single day we are awake. These are some of the people I consider my ‘fathers’.
I want children. I have always loved them from when I was three and forever trying to carry my much larger twin brother on my back because I was ‘older’ than him by ten minutes. I have had many opportunities to ‘parent’ a lot of my cousins and aunt’s children and I have come to appreciate the priviledge and responsibility it is to bring a child into the world. A baby is not something you can carry for a few hours and hand over when it begins to cry from a bout of colic. A child is not drycleaning that you can drop off and pick a few days later all rid of its acquired flaws. A teenager will always return home like a homing pigeon when he/she has stirred up trouble you had no hand in starting. Coupled with the horrific stories I see and hear, I am more and more humbled by what it takes to raise a child you can be proud of. I’ve seen first hand how teenagers can wake up one morning and rebel so completely they break your heart, how you can raise a child who turns out so socially inept you start to ask questions and prod them to do things you should be normally be preventing them from doing; how some children can live multiple lives and fool you so completely that when you eventually catch on, its too late to help. Being a parent is hard, but being a ‘great’ father is something few will achieve. So I salute the ones who try and I empathize with the ones who fall along the way, Fatherhood is a journey that starts every morning and is travelled every single day.


They’re angry at me.
I can only write.

The other option is unpleasant…


She laid down, rough hands folded on her chest. Her raven hair strewn across the white , fluffy pillow. Her dull brown robe covered her tanned skin from her neck, down to her feet. She closed her eyes and dreamt her way into her inner sanctum…

Before her was a door. She grasped the knob and turned, opening to reveal a long, dark passage. Unafraid and without assistance, she walked, as someone used to traipsing the dark paths. Only her footsteps could be heard in the complete darkness. A little rattle was accompanied by the whining of hinges. The footsteps proceeded in and a second later, more whining as a door swung shut. She shuffled to the corner in the dark.
More rattling.
She struck a match and illuminated briefly, the room. Just a few steps beyond were iron bars, going from one end of the small room to the next.
Turning to a corner, she bent and lit a stub hanging on the wall. She went around, lighting other stubs. A minute later, she was done. She turned and stared at the iron bars. Putting her hand into her voluminous robe, she brought out a single key and walked towards a padlock, holding two bolts together. She slotted it in and opened, pushing the entrance into the cage open. She walked in and locked the gate behind her. The candle lights outside the bars barely illuminated the confinement. A single drawer was the only furniture in the cage. She walked towards it and pulled her robe over her head, revealing her nudity. She folded the robe and kept it on top of the drawer. She pulled the iron handle attached to the drawer and put her hand into the dark space she revealed. She pulled out a long rope-like material from within. The faint lighting revealed the whip. Closing the drawer, she walked to the centre of the room, dragging the whip behind her. She stopped at the centre and holding the whip to her teeth, she reached up and unclasped what seemed to be a manacle. She put her left wrist in and locked it. Chained to the ceiling with one hand, she took the whip nestled between her teeth. Briefly, a random ray of light flickered, revealing the menacing tiny razors attached across the length of the whip. Taking a deep breath and squeezing her eyes shut, she raised her arm and lashed at her bare back. A grunt escaped her lips. She raised the whip again, and brought it down her back. It continued, the sound of lashes on flesh and its accompanying grunt, disturbing music to the ears. The lights revealed the opening wounds at her back. Dark blood trickled down, some lodging themselves in the crevice of her buttocks.
She took a shaky breath, trying to steady her shaking legs, chest heaving. Another deep breath and the whip came up and down it travelled, leaving another trail of blood. The tiny blades gleamed, dark red glistenings on their gray skin. Lash. Lash. Lash.
With a small cry she stopped, sagging, her hanging hand pulling her weight. Perspiration mixed with tears streaked her cheeks, forming droplets at her chin and falling on her breasts. Her hands shook. Slowly, she stood upright. Taking small, shallow breaths, she gingerly raised her punishment arm and administered her just serving. The candles fluttered weakly, as if shying away from revealing the bloodied, swollen pulp of flesh and blood that was once her back.
Lash. Lash.
Her knees buckled under her and her hand dropped the whip. Her shoulder popped, dislocating from the socket.
She screamed.
Waves of pain, amplified, hit her. Her left hand awkwardly held her as she passed out.

…And woke up. Her eyes fluttered open and she unclasped her rough hands. She held her left shoulder and without a word, popped the ball back into its socket, grunting in the process.
She sat up from the bed, wincing. Imprinted on the sheet were bloodstains, soaking through her robe. She got up and walked to the shower stall, removing the robe to reveal weals bleeding profusely. She opened the shower stall and turned a knob.
She walked into the warm water, sucking through her teeth, biting her lips as the water hit her tender back. She watched through a haze of pain as her blood, diluted, ran down the drain.
“This is my punishment” she whispered and turned to shut the shower stall.

On Music

Hello Humanity!
This is not a story. As if i had to say that.
I like celebrating the achievements of my family and today is another ‘Aren’t We Awesome?’ day.
My brother started a Neo-Jazz-Hiphop band. Yeah that’s what i call it. So yeah, he started this with his friends late last year. They call themselves Psylus.
Whatever that means.
I watched and listened to their recordings few days ago and i was totally impressed!

Therefore, decided to share the YouTube links to their available videos.
Psylus at Round House

Psylus night-busking at Waterloo

You can check out the collaboration they did with a Hiphop group Refractory on their website:

They are all between the ages of 17-21.
They’re going to be big!!!
Oh and my brother is the one on the drums. 😀

That being said, have a lovely day! I most definitely won’t.

L. Diablo

Esto puede o puede no haber pasado


I’ve been asked by many if I believe the things I write; If I am really that dark and disturbed.
Yes actually, I am. I believe in everything I write. I believe in evil as much as I believe in good. Sometimes, maybe more. Some would say that’s the pessimist in me. I’ll like to believe it’s the realist in me
Is the darkness because of the absence of light or is the light an absence of darkness?
I asked myself this as I walked down the road after grocery shopping at Morrisons. My mind was occupied and that was why I didn’t notice him. It took a hand restraining my foot to break me out of my reverie. I was startled. I turned and stared angrily at the hobo holding me. Seeing that he had gotten my attention, he smiled at me and I shook my head, signalling the fact that I had no coin to spare. I was about to move on when he made a remark that stopped me in my tracks.
“I know the answer to your question” he said and flashed his toothy grin, affording me the chance to count his sparse teeth if I was inclined to. I was too busy being surprised.

“What is my question?” I asked him and he laughed.
“You just asked a question like Nebuchadnezzar. He wanted to know what his dream meant but instead, he asked the charlatans to tell him what he dreamt about. He wanted to be sure they were real.”
He laughed again.
“I will tell you your question. You want to know which us greater: Light or Darkness. You want to know which came first.”
I was shocked. “How…”
“Did I know that?”
I nodded slowly.
“I’m wise, perhaps. I’m a guru maybe. Now let me ask you a question. How did you think I knew that?”
I was stumped. I really had no idea how he did that. Maybe I was talking loudly to myself. I tend to do that sometimes.
“No, you weren’t talking loudly” he said and barked in laughter at the look of surprise on my face.
“Who the hell are you?” I asked, curious and a little scared at the same time.
He smiled and offered me his dirty hand for a shake. Against my better judgement I took it and shook.
“O Weird one, as you call yourself on Twitter” he said, with a twinkle in his eyes, “I am Heilel ben Shakhar”
“Heilel…ben? Are you Jewish? A rabbi?”
He laughed again. I couldn’t help but smile. He had a funny laugh. At this point, I turned around and noticed some people were staring covertly at us, probably wondering what I was doing, talking to a vagrant. I became shy.
“Ignore them” he said, standing up. “And no, I’m not Jewish even though my name does sound rather lovely in that tongue.”
“So what are you then?” I asked.
He leaned on the wall, until we were at eye level.
“The Greeks would call me Eosphorus. Venus in some translation. English, Son of the morning star. You know me as Lucifer”
I chuckled.
“Come on now! You want me to believe you’re the devil? Or your parents really named you Lucifer?” I asked my voice ripe with derision.
“The former. More or less. And I can prove it.” he grinned.
I couldn’t help myself.
“Prove it”
He smiled.
“Give me a moment. I’ll pop into the store to freshen up. This look gets tiring sometimes.”

And that was how I stood, waiting for a hobo who just piqued my interest to exit the store. I watched the crowd pass by, smiling in my head at the ridiculous dressing of one lady I was sure was Jamaican. I quickly checked the time on my phone. It was getting late. I had to cook too.
“Man shall not live by bread alone” a smooth voice whispered beside me. For the second time that day, I startled.
“Umm…do I know you Sir?” I asked, looking in askance at the handsome man beside me. He laughed.
“How many times would I introduce myself to you Weirdo?”
My jaw was unhinged. “…Wow.”
“I know” he said smiling, “I clean up well”
Well was an understatement.
He was freshly shaven, looking dapper in a clean-cut suit with cufflinks made purely out of stones I was sure were diamonds. Oh and he had perfect, white teeth.
This was terribly odd.
I suddenly became nervous.
“I…I think I should be going..”
His brows furrowed. “You’re really weird aren’t you? Many people would never stop to talk to a hobo. You did. Many people would talk and suck up to me when I’m like this, and you won’t.” he shook his head.
“I’m…I’m…it’s better I go…”
He touched my arm.
“Don’t you want to know the answer to your question? Don’t you want to see if I’m really Lucifer?”
I was torn between curiosity and caution.
“Please. I will bring you back in record time.”
“Will you really?”
He put his hand on his chest. “Scout’s honour”
He grinned. I smiled back tentatively.
He smiled widely.
“Transportation awaits” and without waiting for my response, took my hand and marched me to the car park. I could feel stares as we walked.
One too many women stared enviously at us.
He marched me to a long black car, waiting. He opened the back door and allowed me to get in before he did.
“A limo. Really.” I muttered. I’m not a fan of big cars.
He laughed. “Well, I love the bar” he said, pointing to the revolving rack of bottles.
He chuckled in agreement whilst leaning over to fetch a bottle and two glasses.
“Your preferred poison” he said, showing me the Jack Daniels he held.
He was right.
He poured us drinks and added some ice to his.
“None in mine please”
I like it straight.
He handed me a glass and sat down. He took a sip and grimaced slightly.
“You don’t like it” I remarked.
“Not my favourite I admit. Too…dry. I’m a wine guy.”
“The Devil is a wine guy. You whiner” I murmured and laughed softly to myself. He watched me from the rim of his glass.
“You’re not drinking”
I took a sip, gurgling it a little in my throat. Fantastic. I drained my cup.
“It’s my kind of stuff”
“I noticed” he said dryly.
He refilled my glass.
“So…” I started.
I laughed. “This is weird you know”
He smiled genially. “I can tell.”
I nodded “You sure can tell a lot”
It was his turn to laugh. “For example, i can tell you’re bursting to ask questions but you don’t know how to start”
I nodded ” True.”
He spread his hands. “Go on”
“Number one. Are you really who you say you are? Like really?”
“If I told you something about yourself would you believe me?”
He nodded.
“You were 8 when your nanny held you up to the ceiling and threw you down”
My chest spasmed a little in remembrance.
“Right.” I paused. “So you might be who you say you are.”
“O ye of little faith” he murmured and I grinned.
“Question two. Why the whole theatrics with the hobo dressing?”
He guffawed.
“Theatrics you say!”
I waited patiently until he had gathered himself.
“Well, I enjoy studying humanity, uninterrupted. What better way to do that than by looking like a beggar? No one really takes note of us. Many try hard to stay away from us.”
“So…you beg just to study people. Interesting.” I drained my glass again and he refilled.
“So, you said you could answer my question…”
“Ah yes!” he dropped his half empty glass, stretched his legs out and hooked his hand at the back of his head.
“Darkness and Light are two different entities. Darkness is in fact older than light. It is not good, neither is it evil. It is pure.”
“Yes. Pure. Complete. Absolute. And that is why I like it.”
“So which is more superior?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “My opinion is subjective. So is the opinion of the Maker. I’ll say Darkness. He’ll say Light.”
I nodded. “I see…”
I looked out of the window, watching life pass by.
“Why did you pick me?” I turned back to him.
His eyes locked with mine. “Pick you? You don’t believe this was a chance meeting? A random occurrence?”
I raised an eyebrow, sceptical.
He chuckled “Fine. It wasn’t random. I’ve watched you for quite a while. You sometimes drop some coins into my tin cup. You’ll always smile slightly. Like you find something amusing. I was…intrigued”
I nodded. “I see.”
“Do you?”
I found the question odd.
“You know you have ‘worshippers’” I said. “The Satanists. Do you also have these kind of meetings with them?”
He chuckled. “Oh them. Well why would I?”
Eyebrow raised again. “Why indeed. They believe in you…amongst other things…”
He nodded. “That they do. And that is why they don’t need me.”
“And you think I somehow need you?”
He smiled. “You do. You will. It’s your type that interest me. The ones that believe strongly in the Maker. I want to open your eyes to what He truly is.”
My eyebrows furrowed. “He is what He is.”
He laughed. “A very evasive way of introducing Himself. That’s Him for you.”
He shook his head and continued. “I am what I am. And you choose not to ask ‘What is it that you are?’ You just believe.”
“Is this your idea of a smear campaign?”
He raised his hands in mock defence. “No. No. Not smear. Just…Truth.”
I scoffed. “You’re one to talk about the Truth. Prince of Liars. Accuser.”
He smiled, taking no offence. “Now that my dear, is the smear campaign used against me.”
“I see” I muttered sarcastically.
“You don’t”
“You don’t see. You assume you see but you don’t. If you saw, you’ll probably be mad by now”
He grinned widely.
Something about the quality of his smile unnerved me.
Lucifer or not, this man was dangerous.
I swallowed.
“Yeah. Sure.”
He paused for a beat.
“Do you want to see?”
“See what?”
He spread his hands in an expansive gesture.
“See…Life. Truth.”
I thought about if and shook my head. We lapsed into silence. I could feel his unwavering stare on me and self-consciously, I kept my eyes outside.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere quiet. Cosy. We can talk there.”
I nodded.
I wasn’t familiar with the streets we passed and I made use of the tinted glasses to stare at pedestrians, unashamed. Most tried to peer in. I bet they were wondering what celebrity was in here.
I laughed out loud and turned to him.
“Sorry. I do that sometimes.”
He smiled. “Don’t we all.”
“You know…I have no idea what to call you. Lucifer san? Lucy? L?”
He shrugged. “Anything would do.”
I stared curiously at him.
“What is your real name?”
A glint entered his eyes. The unnerving look was back.
“Names have powers. Fearsome powers. I cannot tell you mine. For your sake.”
“My sake” I whispered.
“Yes.” The glint disappeared and his eyes shone in amusement. “I like Lucci. Like Gucci. Only better.”

Before I could comment on how lame that was, the car stopped.
“Where are we?”
“Merriot Hotel”
My mouth widened. “THE Merriot Hotel?”
He said nothing and stepped out of the car and motioned me to do the same.
“Leave your bags inside”
I stepped out, glancing curiously around me. This was a haunt for the affluent in the society. I was very certain we’ll be sent back. Well I would be. He looked the part of a successful man. I looked…drab.
Sensing my dilemma, he smiled kindly at me and took my hand in his. We walked to the door and I watched, astonished as the doorman bowed slightly to him. We walked into opulence.
I was fascinated by this new world.
Low, melodic music somewhere in the background, murmured. I spied a gang of Saudi princes, chatting over cups of coffee.
A concierge greeted him warmly, throwing me a brief, puzzled glance.
“Mr L. So glad to see you today. Same room?”
“Yes and thank you.”
The concierge gave a small bow and left. I turned to him.
“Mr L?”
He grinned. “L for Lucci”
I shook my head. “Do they know who you really are? Or profess to be?”
“Some do. I’ve had…business”
“Ah…I see” I whispered.
“You don’t” he whispered back.
I rolled my eyes and shook my head.
The concierge returned. “This way Sir, Madam.”
It took a second for me to realise he was referring to me as ‘Madam’.
I smiled sheepishly as I followed them into a small, stately room.
I sat an arm’s length away from him, and noticing this, he merely raised and eyebrow and rolled his eyes, mocking me.
Another man, a staff, came in.
Without waiting for him to speak, Mr. L turned to me.
“What would you have? Some wine perhaps?”
“Umm…” I shook my head. “Coffee would be fine.”
He raised his elegant eyebrows at me. “Coffee.”
He turned to the waiting man and I watched him as he ordered the waiter to do his bidding.

He was beautiful. Bronzed skin, hair jet black with white patches at the sides. His nose, slightly hooked, just the way I liked. His lips looked sinfully soft and had a wet sheen to them. Sinfully wet. I sniggered in my head. He finished talking to the waiter who left, then he turned to me.
“You really need to learn how to hide your thoughts”
His green eyes shone with mirth. I grinned.
“It just makes me wonder what you really look like.”
He grinned. “You don’t like this look?”
“Au contraire. It’s just that…” I paused. “You change looks. The curious part of me wonders what your true form is”
He leaned back into the sofa. “Same way you wondered what my true name was.”
I nodded.
“You should curb your curiosity” he said softly.
I raised an eyebrow in defiance. “Why? Is Curiosity a bad thing?”
“No. But it could lead you into paths…unfavourable.”
I laughed suddenly; snorting a little.
“What?” his voice, miffed.
“You’re funny. Are you warning me to be careful? I mean, aren’t you the Devil? You should be encouraging me to be wild and bad” I grinned widely.
“Oh” his lips pulled at the corners. “I like you”
“I like you too. Which I guess should be crazy, considering the fact that you’re evil and all”
He raised an eyebrow. “Do I look evil?”
The waiter came back with our drinks.
I whispered my thanks and waited till he was gone.
“Do I?”
He asked again.
I took a sip from my cup and daintily dropped it back on the saucer.
“No. Actually you don’t. But evil is in the heart isn’t it?”
He smiled. “Well answered. But is evil bad? Who made it bad? Why is it seen as bad?”
I was silent; thinking.
“Anything that hurts people in the long or short run is bad.”
“Oh? And how are we sure people don’t just feel hurt because they’ve been told to feel so?”
I grimaced. “That makes no sense. So someone who’s getting killed could as well feel good about dying?”
“You are all going to die anyway”
I shook my head. “No sense.”
A strand of hair dislodged from my bun and fell across my face. I pushed it back without thinking. It fell to my face again and muttering peevishly, I pushed it out.
He came to my side.
“Let me help with that”
I stayed still as he pinned my errant bun up. He was so close. He smelt…he smelt of all my favourite scents. Wet grass. Burning wood. My mum.
“Done” he whispered. He looked at me and smiled softly. I smiled back.
He remained where he was and  leaned back again, studying the ceiling. Our legs touched. I was very conscious of that.
“How old are you?” I blurted out. I needed to break the tension building inside me.
“How old is eternity?” he shot back at me.
I shrugged. “Dunno”
He looked at me.
“Come on. Talk.”
I bit my lip in thought.
The silence stretched for minutes. He wasn’t going to break it anytime soon.
“I think Eternity began when the universe was made. I cannot say how long that was. I’ve read that the Earth may have existed for over 400 million years. If that’s the case, and assuming other planets existed roughly at the same time before each other,  then…” I paused and frowned. “I’m rambling”
He shook his head. “No please. Continue.”
He was mocking me. It was written all over his face.
I felt hurt.
“Go to hell” I muttered.
“Apparently I will…eventually” he said and laughed. “Fine. I’m sorry.”
I threw him a nasty look and his grin widened.
“Stop sulking. It doesn’t suit you.”
“Yeah yeah”
“Age is such a mundane thing. I laughed because the years you mentioned were ridiculous.”
“Yes, my curious one. Ridiculous. It’s like looking at me now and calling me a two-year old.”
I frowned. “So it’s older?”
He nodded. “You know the phrase ad infinutum?”
I nodded. “Without end”
“Yes. The universe began at the end of ad infinutum.”
I was lost. “Huh?”
He laughed.
I huffed. “You’re just messing with me. Give Science a couple of years and they’ll discover the exact number in years.”
He laughed harder.
“Science.” he said wistfully as he wiped his tears of mirth.
“Science was and is my brain child.”
I was puzzled. “Your brain child?”
“He grinned.”Yes. It’s fun to throw Scientists titbits of clues and watch them mule over it for years before coming up with half-assed theories.”
I looked at him. “You’re behind the idea that ‘There is no God’.”
He grinned and bowed. “None other. Fight the Power.”
I shook my head, smiling, part impressed.
“You devil.”
“I have a reputation to maintain.”
I shook my head and laughed. I was clearly out of my league with this man.
“Would you like to see?”
“See what?”
“Ad infinutum. How the universe began. The beginning of the stars. The  parts of Space Man hasn’t yet discovered…”
My eyes widened. “Are you for real?”
He nodded, eyes twinkling.
“That would be so awesome! Hell yeah!”
He held up a hand.
“First, you’ll have to let me in.”
“Let you in? Where?”
He tapped my head. “There.”
“Umm. Dude you’ve been reading my thoughts all day. You’ve been there and back.”
He smiled and shook his head.
“That was just a neat party trick. I didn’t really enter your mind. Your familiar fed me that information.”
“Huh? Familiar?”
“Yes. What the Ancient Egyptians called ‘Ka’. Your Ka is a spiritual copy of you. It knows everything about you. Well, almost. The part of you I want to access doesn’t come with your Ka. It’s yours alone. So you, dear, need to let me in.”
My brain whirled. “I have a spiritual doppelgänger who knows everything about me. Now if that isn’t creepy…”
He said nothing.
“If my Ka doesn’t have the part you want to access that means it’s special…sacred no?”
He nodded.
“Hmmm. And if I let you in…”
“We will be linked. You will share my memories. Fed slowly of course. I could show you so many things, my dear. I would blow your mind…literally if I’m not careful.”
“Show me many things…like the beginning of the world. The Host.”
“Yes.” he whispered.
“And after that?”
He drew closer to me and cupped my face in the palm of his hand.
“I become a part of you. I won’t take over.” He said softly “You can summon me when you need me. I could help you with knowledge.”
He ran his thumb lightly across my lips. “You yearn to know. Oh, the craving to learn. The insatiable need of yours to master; To dominate…” He blew air softly out of his lips, on mine. I shivered, eyes glazed. I leaned in closer.
“I could make you rich without even trying. Just…”
He stared into my eyes. I couldn’t look away. His head lowered towards mine.
My lips parted.
Show me.
“Say it…” he whispered.
My mouth opened.

A cough interrupted us and I snapped back to the present. I saw the split-second change in his eyes as he turned to look at the waiter who had interrupted us.
“Get out” he whispered, voice beyond cold and I shuddered, watching the waiter shake in terror, running.
I rubbed my face vigorously, trying to regain my balance.
What on Earth did I almost do?
I shook in revulsion and fear.
I got up.
“I want to go home”
He turned to me and for a second I didn’t breathe. His eyes were filmed over, red as blood. I swear I saw the  heat curl off his hair.
I whimpered and shrank away from him.
He closed his eyes and opened then, returning them back to normal.
He sighed.
“I’ve scared you. I’m sorry. Please. Sit.”
My legs were still shaky but I refused to sit. I cleared my throat.
“No. I need…to go now”
He must have known I wasn’t going to change my mind.
He sighed again and got up.
He ushered me out of the room and I walked slowly, trying not to buckle until we were back inside the car.
He watched me, waiting for me to talk. I said nothing.
He sighed.
“You never responded to my proposal” he said softly.
“No, what?”
“No. You’re not welcome into me.” I didn’t look at him.
I heard him sigh again.
“You’d have said yes if he hadn’t interrupted. Wouldn’t you?”
I could feel the fierceness of his gaze in me. I kept my eyes down.
“Well, we’ll never know now will we?”
We lapsed back into silence.
“You could have everything you know. Every stinking thing. I know your heart desires. I can make them all come true.”
I sighed and looked at him.
“And when time ends, when the Earth is finished, where would you lead us to?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know”
I shook my head. “You know. And you know it’s not pleasant”
He said nothing.
“How many people have you given this proposal to?” I asked few minutes later.
He shrugged. “A lot”
I nodded. “How many refused?”
He paused. “I can count them with my fingers and still have some left.”
I nodded and kept quiet.
“The Maker you love doesn’t love you.” He whispered. “He doesn’t understand the concept of Love. He just needs obedient sheep who won’t question His every word. Would you remain subservient forever?”
I said nothing.
“At least with me you will know all. I won’t force you to do anything. I am benevolent. Hell, I appeal to your wild side. How long will you keep that side under lock and key?”
I kept quiet until the car rolled into the car park, where our journey began.
I knew he was angry. I could smell faint whiffs of sulphur.
“I’ll make life difficult for you until you accept me. You know that right?”
He smiled savagely.
I returned the smile, coldness for coldness.
“You’re a sore loser”
He growled.
I got out of the car, remembering to pick up my groceries. I heard the car zoom past me and I didn’t look back.
I didn’t also see the car that was trying to park where the limo just left. I just heard the screeching of brakes and the next thing I knew, I was on the ground, staring at the sky, with a bruised back. A face came into my view.
An apologetic woman.
“Are you ok?”
She helped me up and I winced as I bent to pick up my fallen bags.
“Yes I’m ok. No, no ambulance.”
Maybe I needed the ambulance.
I mean, why was the sky so bright?
I had noticed it getting darker when we left the hotel.
I brought out my phone from my pocket and checked the time.
I turned and looked around.
I was on Earth alright.
I turned to the woman who was still looking worriedly at me.
“What’s the time please? Think the phone’s acting up.”
She checked her wristwatch.
“Ten past three.”
My phone wasn’t acting up. It was correct.
At ten past three, I was crossing the road to the other side, a few minutes before I met the hobo/devil.
“Mind fuckery” I whispered.
I waved at the lady and crossed the road in a daze, walking to the path where I encountered him as the Hoo.
My heart skipped.
There he was.
I walked on quickly, throwing glances at him.
He was asleep.
I could hear his snores.
“Maybe i just imagined it all.”
No, even I didn’t believe that .
“I think I’ve finally lost it” I whispered to myself as I walked on.
“No, no you haven’t” the sleeping man whispered and smiled, eyes still closed.
I didn’t hear him.


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