Archive - November 2012

1
The Introduction
2
Unseen
3
Uncovered
4
Unparalleled
5
Unprofessional

The Introduction

Tinsel is in a few minutes, and I am just about settling down into my favourite part of the settee when I notice there are hands on the curtains, pulling them. No, yanking and tugging at them to see if they’d give. As I change direction and attempt a rescue, a yellow, plastic chair slides on the floor (barely missing my legs) and past the curtains on its way to a space behind the standing fan in the corner. It stops and a pair of small, skinny, slightly long legs jumps on the settee to celebrate a well – executed move. Ah, there’s something more exciting going on there, thinks the curtains strainer who promptly abandons ship and joins the jumping fun on the settee. Now, there are two sets of small legs on the settee, testing their durability. Firmly and a little loudly, my voice breaks up the party. ‘Stop jumping and come down,’ I instruct, and as if on cue, the Tinsel soundtrack fills the air. Immediately, the little girl of the pair jumps onto the floor and starts displaying dance moves her father claims have my influence all over them: I’m yet to see the similarity. Her brother also relocates from the settee but continues jumping to the beat. For a while, there’s a semblance of sanity. I sit down. Once the music is over, they lose interest and make for the settee again. ‘No, no, no,’ I say. ‘Stay on the floor. Sit on the floor.’ I quickly add while trying to follow the scene on the TV screen. The little girl moves out of my line of vision for a bit while her brother is at my knees, marking time or gathering momentum (whichever). She reappears and starts pulling a stool (which she has placed some things, I can’t immediately see, on). Noticing the promise of activity, her brother leaves my side. The next minute she’s yelling: ‘Mummy. Mummy. See baby.’ I turn in their direction and that’s when I see the items on the stool – a colouring book and colour pencils (She wants”more

Read More

Unseen

The creaking sound of a door opening broke into her sleep. She had been literally ‘falling’ asleep when her extra – sensitive sense of hearing picked up the sound. Now she was wide awake. Ordinarily, Dame Dafinone would frown at being disturbed from her mid –day siesta but not today. Instead she felt fear creeping up within her as the sound continued from somewhere in the front of the house. Weekday afternoons saw her entirely alone in the house; her son and his family having gone to their respective places of human endeavours – be it their work stations or learning institutions. Weekday afternoons were silent and peaceful times for her to rest and rejuvenate. All alone in the house, it always afforded her the quiet she sort for her own peculiar mental and spiritual tasks. She looked forward to weekday afternoons. The solitude and aloneness helped remind her a bit of the serenity and calmness that characterized the simple, village life she missed but knew she might never return to. At least for as long as her first son had breath in him, which would be a very, very long time from all indications! The creaking sound continued but this time a lot less than before. But a sound nevertheless. Dame Dafinone’s fear climbed a bit as her mind began to race. From her calculations, the first person due back home wouldn’t be until 3:00pm. The clock on the wall of her bedroom had struck noon a couple of minutes back. No family member would return at this time and try to sneak into their own house! And even if one did, the person would have called out to her immediately. To alert her of their presence. It was a standard rule in the house. So who could it be? The creaking sound stopped with a click and Dame Dafinone’s ears picked up shuffling feet and voices in whispers. Who could it be? Not a very optimistic lady, her mind climbed hills and valleys as she provided herself with answers, and damaging ones too! House breakers! Intruders! Strangers who”more

Read More

Uncovered

A smile played on his lips as he emerged from his car. A smile that always made its appearance every time he thought about Roli or was about to see her. He effected the security measures on the car and turned towards the quaint shop he had parked in front of. Toju passed a hand over his head as he walked and the smile widened into a grin. In her opinion, there was always nothing to be cut on his head but then she wouldn’t know. She wasn’t a man. He’d feel filthy if he didn’t have a haircut almost every week. It would be a slight on his personal hygiene program and well, his image. More importantly, it was an excuse to see her as often as he could manage. Their first meeting was forever etched in his memory. No, more pertinent were her first words to him. “Good afternoon.” Her voice almost as bright as the sun blazing that day. “And this is a barbing salon.” Her sharp eyes were trained on his head. “I wonder if you’re in the wrong place.” His once – foul mood at the time had been dispelled by her attitude and outspokenness. It was a first for him, coming in contact with a receptionist whose wit was just what  he needed. And he played along with her. “I wonder if YOU are in the wrong place, young lady.” He uttered, leaning on the table she sat behind. “Cos I need a haircut.” And he rubbed a hand over his barely hairy scalp. At that moment, they shared their first laugh together. Then they both proceeded to share a lot of other things which included jokes, anecdotes, ice- creams, pastries, personal experiences and most of all, time together. In the one month they came to know each other [with him going to the salon an average of twice weekly], he had never met any one so lively, so mischievous, so intelligent and yet so content with her job as a receptionist. She was new in the job but extremely wonderful with clients of”more

Read More

Unparalleled

At a fast – food place ‘Unaccompanied?’ The voice came out of the blue. A strange male voice. She looked up from her almost finished drink, giving the tall stranger a quick, sharp once – over. ‘Uninvited.’ ‘Unoffended.’ A slight frown marred her brows. ‘Unappealing.’ ‘Undisturbed.’ He was smiling confidently now. ‘Undergraduate?’ He inquired. She had very misleading youthful looks. However, her curves helped out most of the time. He couldn’t see her completely. She was sitting down, half covered by the table in front of her. ‘Unlikely.’ He tried again. ‘Unemployed?’ Now he was getting on her nerves. ‘Unacceptable.’ ‘Unattached?’ He queried once more. She uttered not a word for fear that it would be scathing. He proceeded to draw out the chair opposite her. She halted his action with a look that could kill. ‘Uninvited,’ she repeated with emphasis. ‘Unwise.’ ‘Hmm…unapproachable.’ ‘Unasked.’ ‘Unventured, ungained.’ A slight pause, then. ‘Unacquainted.’ He stretched his hand towards her. She ignored it and finished up her drink. She rose to her feet, a lovely shaped feminine figure in a pair of blue bootleggers and a denim top. ‘Unnecessary.’ ‘Unfriendly,’ he told her, watching her. Without another word or glance, she walked away. In her office. Two days later She was walking through the reception area en route a meeting, when she saw a familiar figure sitting quite comfortably amongst other clients of the organization. She hesitated a little, uncertain of his identity. He rose to his feet then, smiling, and confirming her doubts. How had he gotten her address? She watched him approach her. He was a far cry from the casually dressed stranger over the weekend. His grey business suit fitted like a glove, complimenting his height and dark friendly facial features. Fleetingly, she wondered what he did for a living. ‘Unannounced.’ She spoke first, expressionless and not returning his smile. ‘Unexpected?’ He was close enough for her to get a good close of his cologne. ‘Unsurprised.’ She ignored his question. ‘Unavailable?’ He asked, shoving both hands into his pockets. ‘Unavoidably.’ ‘Untimely?’ ‘Undoubtedly.’ His eyes raked her entire figure, taking in”more

Read More

Unprofessional

He was talking as he walked through the door. ‘Is this the last one, Seke?’ He waved the file he was holding in the air. ‘Can I take a bit of a break then?’ He walked towards the counter she stood behind. ‘I’m a bit peckish.’ The two ladies at the counter both looked at him; Seke , the lady he addressed, was the older one of the two – a middle-aged, matronly woman – looked up from her scribbling on a pad while the other lady, the much younger one standing by it, turned slowly to look at him as well. Momentarily, there was a halt in his tracks, then he continued. When he spoke again a smile could be heard in his voice. ‘Well, hello there.’ The timbre of his voice dropped noticeably. His smile came naturally, effortlessly, expanding his fleshy, friendly facial features. The lady didn’t return the smile. The bland expression she had on her face, while watching Seke write a while ago, was still intact. She regarded him with cool, brown eyes. ‘Hello Osawe.’ Her voice matched her eyes – cool, very low–toned and husky. ‘It has been ages.’ He turned and addressed Seke again. ‘Is she the last one?’ He wanted to know as he reached the counter and placed the file on it. ‘For now, yes, but she…,’ Seke began but the other woman cut her short. ‘I was postponing my appointment,’ she informed him. He put both his hands in the pockets of his dark trousers. ‘Why? Are you in a hurry?’ His gaze fixed on her. His big, dark frame loomed over her petite one. The difference in their statures sharply obvious: the huge dark man and the little, light-skinned lady. ‘Sort of.’ His slightly–hooded dark eyes raked over her. ‘You look healthy enough. I’m sure this won’t take long.’ ‘But I…,’ she began. He wasn’t listening to her. ‘Do you have her file, Seke?’ ************************************************************************ She preceded him into the room, and he shut the door behind him. He was the first to speak immediately they were alone. ‘You didn’t”more

Read More

Copyright © 2013. Idolors domain