#LiteraryChallenge – Day Three Yesterday’s results: Story One by Emem Alexandra Akpan-Nya- 74 votes. Story Two by Jerry Chi- 23 votes. Congratulations, Emem. Like on the first day, one of today’s contestants has been disqualified for going way over the word limit. As usual, VOTING ENDS by midnight. The theme for today is The Ugly Ones Are Still Alive. Enjoy. STORY ONE Peter Longe has been my friend for over a decade. It was strange that he got married and didnt tell me. None of his close-knit friends had met his wife. We didnt know who she was, what she did for a living or how they met. She was a mystery. The news making the rounds was that she was beautiful and had 5 university degrees. Peter has good taste in his choice of the trinity - women, wine and weed. We smoked some good weed together back in school. He likes the good things of life. Ol Boy! We suppose meet your wife. I heard shes really beautiful with plenty degrees. Shes all Ive ever wanted in a woman. Youll meet her someday. He went on to discuss the business that brought him to my office. He deliberately dropped the wife subject in the trash can where it wriggled uncomfortably and died naturally. I got the message and kept off the unwelcome subject. I was surprised to receive his call on a busy Monday morning. My wife is at your office reception. Please attend to her. He abruptly ended the call. I inquired from the receptionist if I had any visitors and she confirmed that two ladies and a gentleman were there to see me. Please send in the lady called Mrs. Longe. But Sir... she probably wanted to make a fuss about the order in which they arrived but I ended the call. Mrs. Longe was truly beautiful. She had a disarming smile and looked attractively shy. She introduced herself as Mercy Longe. Lord have Mercy. I was ogling her. But I couldnt help it. She had come for financial assistance. I was shocked that Peter hadnt asked me directly himself. They were facing difficult times. I gave her more than the amount she requested. My intercom buzzed. Sir, can I send in the other Mrs. Longe now? What other Mrs. Longe? What are you talking about? Thats what I was trying to tell you, Sir. There were two ladies called Mrs. Longe waiting to see you. The second Mrs. Longe introduced herself as Grace Longe. She wasnt as graceful as Mercy Longe. Please sit down, Your Grace, I said in an attempt at humour. Alarm bells were already going off in my head. Who is me that youre call Your Grace Sir? she laughed like a hyena. Grace confirmed that she was Peter Longes wife. She spoke predominantly pidgin English. She was overweight. She was short with fantastic pendulous breasts. She was duck-footed and had a puffy face. She also appeared to have a subnormal IQ. I sat quietly and ate my bread of sorrow. To date, we have not been able to unravel the true identity of Mercy Longe. STORY TWO Daga stood over the body, wiping his blade with a handkerchief and then checking his clothes for bloodstains. He went through pockets, there were several, Kilo had a liking for combat jeans. Daga took what he considered valuable: a roll of hemp and some naira notes. He squatted beside Kilo’s head, using his beefy hand to open his mouth. He used his knife to prise a gold tooth out of Kilos gum and dropped it into his pocket. Before he walked away, he used the dead man’s body like a foot mat, cleaning the blood from his soles. ***** “Salewa, go to Iya Camilla’s place and get your father.” That was how Salewa came to be standing in the shadows and see a man die. She had seen blood before. She had brought judgment to countless chickens and a goat once. But what flowed out of her father’s neck was not like that. The moonlight reflected off the blood and made it glisten like some precious liquid with magical properties. She did not raise an alarm. Since the first night her father had slipped into her bed and forced himself into her anus, she had wished him dead. At first it hurt, but her body toughened and she stopped walking with a limp after each visit. Her mother called her a liar, a witch, a child of Satan. As she walked back home, she wondered what she would do with the bottle of arsenic she had bought from Mallam Isah. One was not as good as two, but it would have to do. She had made egusi soup that afternoon. Her mother would be waiting for her to come and serve her meal. She hoped dinner would be done before anyone found the body.
Posted on: Wed, 19 Nov 2014 09:52:58 +0000
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