The first time he kissed her. It was raining. He said he had just been walking past the girl’s hostel when it started to rain. He did not have a sweater. He had come to her room. He only wanted to keep warm until the rain passed.
He sips his beer again. His friends are still laughing but slower this time. They have not noticed his absence from them. He stands up, pretending to go to the washrooms. He instead heads to his car.
I remember the way he got my attention. Sneeky at first. He would comment on some of my posts on Facebook. I ignored him. So he found me on Instagram and sent me a Direct Message. Guess what his opening line was....
In my younger days, I was an avid fan of RnB music and especially of Leona Lewis. I swear this is not because of her thighs though I was willing to lose my virginity to them...ahem.
I'm seated in the dark. The window is open. My clothes on the floor. My panties on the kitchen table. I am not quite sure how they got there.
This is a national icon, just below our national anthem and above mutura, the national treasures. If you ever see the Great Grevy Zebra, as a patriotic Kenyan you stand up, hand over heart and salute it.
They smell of boyhood. He wonders if they know the singular joy of cupping a woman's breast in your hand and....
You pull the last suitcase to the door. You stand there looking even lovelier than you did the first time. You stop, and look at me. You ask if there is anything I would like to say. "Stay with me, please."
Then he will do what all men do in silence, cry. Silently at first, his manhood fighting to hold on to the last vestige of dignity.
He is lying there with a knife in his chest. The room smells like a butchery. Human blood is everywhere. She is crying her eyes out about not wanting to go to jail. The other girls are busy consoling her.
She hasn't felt like this in years. You can almost smell the sweat falling down her brow. Her tongue tastes like sweat. When the night started she had no idea she would be celebrating the new year in a toilet in Tribeca....almost naked.
I still remember it, the day she told me about it. We were seated in Java. The one just opposite Nation Centre. A long courtship had brought us here. Months of me asking, begging, bargaining even threatening. She finally relented to let me take her out. It wasn’t like I was out of options. … Continue reading FIGHTING WITH GOD
Love stories… some end the way they begun; silently. Without scarcely a whisper from the universe. It seems almost as if the gods of love do not care. And others, well….they begin the way you and I started. Two great stars in the heavens colliding. Whoever got caught up in between be damned. It was … Continue reading I’M I WRONG?
This is how it ends, or it is supposed to end. Music slow fading in the background. You, walking away, your hair shimmering slightly. Running off to catch your plane, me…promising to wait for you. But reality is a bit more believable.