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Swift Scribbles – Confused


If this were a movie, there would be a title card on the screen that says One Month Later


Or thereabouts. Anyway.


I’m at the office window, looking out into Opebi, thinking about the last time I saw her. When she had come to my house, one rainy Sunday evening, making me wonder if it was rain water or tear water streaming down her face.


I watched her that day; trying to hold the yawning gulf where my heart used to be together by a pretense at indifference. I listened to her cries for understanding with an attitude that would have bothered me if I didn’t know I was just faking, mentally wringing my hands and biting my nails.


It was all I could do to not grab and hug her – to not kiss her face like some overexcited dog – but I had made up my mind.


There was nothing more for us.


I’m at the office window, looking out into Opebi. I look – but I do not see. The image in front of my vision is that of a soft-featured face, warm, shy eyes and ready-to-smile lips – lips that seemed to sing about love whenever I kissed them.


That’s me, alright. Lucky at life, unlucky at love.


I turn away and switch the image off.

2 responses

  1. “Lucky at life, unlucky at love.”
    So many can relate to this.

    I love the choice of words in this piece. The mark of a master wordsmith. Nice one, Egbon mi.

    October 31, 2014 at 7:27 am

  2. how come it is when we lose something that we now understand it’s worth?

    October 31, 2014 at 8:25 pm

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