As I run, in a daze, towards the
bus stop, I become aware of the rain. It is pouring in sheets, white
sheets, and I must wipe my face with my hands after every few strides to maintain a semblance of visibility. The water
soaks through my clothes thoroughly, causing my chiffon blouse to achieve a degree of transparency ordinarily
reserved for glass. I glance down at
the swell of my breasts, accentuated by the contrast between my black bra and
my now-transparent blouse, and I am suddenly grateful that the young men
gathered on the street to play football a few moments ago have been dispersed by
the rain.
My luxuriant hair, originally
combed backwards, is now matted; loose strands find their way into my eyes and
cause my eyelids to snap shut in reflex. My eyes hurt, but I am not sure if this
is from hair-oil getting into my eyes or the incessant tears. By now I have
cried non-stop for about ten minutes. I am grateful for the rain, because it
swallows up my tears like drops in a big river. The smell of wet sand from the
very first rains of the year fills the air, reminding me of childhood in
Ibadan. I want to stop and savor it, but I cannot. All I want to do now is get
away from here; far, far away.
My feet hurt. In my crazed dash
for safety, I have forgotten to wear shoes. I aim my leading foot for a puddle
and feel the cold water calm my sole for a split second. I cannot stop to
attend to my feet, I will not stop. I run past the stall of the fair Alhaji
with the broken tooth. He waves wildly at me. He beckons, offering safe haven
from the rain. I pretend not to see him and lope past. I will not stop running
until I get to Mofesola. I will hug him tight and bury my head in his chest.
His fragrance will fill my nostrils and his arms will hold me close. Only he can
make this right.
I manage a glance backwards and
my heart nearly jumps into my mouth. I see two dark forms, with umbrellas, only
a few paces away. I panic, and drop my Blackberry onto the road. I cannot stop
to pick it, I will not stop. I breathe deeply and gather my energy into one
last burst of speed. I am so close to the junction now. I will not let myself
be caught. I will not let them take me.
A car honks loudly from somewhere
behind me. The sound seems to come from inside my head. As my neck turns of its
own accord, I know that it is too late. The car is too close, and there is not
enough space for the driver to brake without hitting me. It is futile, but I
jump. I draw my legs in under me and lift my body off the road. The car rams
into me and I collapse backwards onto the bonnet. I try to take the impact with
my arms, but my head hits hard against the bonnet. I taste blood, sticky and
warm, in my mouth.
As I slip into unconsciousness, I
can only think of Mofesola. Mofesola, my Mofesola, my lover with the beautiful
rabbit teeth.
(Episode End)
PS:
Welcome to my first serial story of the year 2013. I am really excited about this one, and I am sure you will love it too. Just keep calm and go with the flow. :D. Be sure to drop a comment, or at least - like the note if you love the story. And please be nice - share!!!
This post is continued here (Part Two).
Koye.
This post is continued here (Part Two).
Koye.
This is a very good piece Koye. I can't wait to savor the rest of the story. Thumbs up for this.
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