"Twenty-three percent! After all the time my phone spent; just twenty-three percent? Uju belted out at me. This wasn't the welcome I expected I craved it different. I wanted to be wrong about her, I wished she would free herself off the charade of solitude she had confined herself to.
"that was a mistake" I responded absentmindedly; the aura of the incident at Douglas still breaths cold in me, never thought traveling could turn to the devil's dance which have left me jinxed,I sensed. The drive to Owerri was a house ride in an old iron bugged bus that battered me on the move; the liquor drowned driver who thought he was an Olympic racer never missed a hole,with the precision of an archer he bumped into every hole leaving my melanated skin breakfast to the curled iron bugs propping out at the ends of the bus.
"Don't try this again" the familiar voice of Uju yanked me back to the present; couldn't believe I let myself be swallowed up in Thoughtland after the decision I made not to be perturbed of recent happening. The voice came a second time; " I don't car...oh! It's nice to know you dont care", reaping the words off her almost saggy lips, I ninja-ed her arrogance mid air . A match to her "can't be bothered" attitude; wouldn't let her nonchalance disrupt the consolation i'd already given myself.
"You pulled the trigger"
"No he did".
I kept having this deranged argument in my head; It took the strength of a psychic to convince my conscience, the bullet which left blood dripping down the huge sketchy body of that stranger didn't go through the firearm in my possession and as much wouldn't let anyone add an iota of imbalance to my vibe. I hastened to the bathroom as she seemed to lack words-the butterfly effect. I had to be in Añara before sundown.
The journey to Owerri the previous day and back to Umuahia today has been stress filled, yet I am in a hurry to embark on another body-battering ride through the same route with an embargo on my mind. How could I jettison this one thought that has left me at loggerheads with the world. Rest hasn't crossed my lane in days; the head compressing migraine which visits when am less rested has come knocking again, this time it brought gongs and drums banging out of sequence as concubine. I knew a proper bed rest would send me into a torturing trance; I knew a water therapy would be a welcoming substitute as I stepped into the bath and twisted the shower handle. I allowed water struggling out of the perforated disc to fall on upon my face; making way through my breast down to my feet,I was aligned with its sleekness. Peace took over me while I sank deeper in thought...
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