Like the sun rises in the morning and later sets without ever being beckoned, so was the life Helen was living in her nefarious aunt Lucinda’s house. It was not as if the woman was all-out evil. Aunt Lucinda believed, for most of her life that all she ever tried to do was be a good mother to her only daughter, Marian. It was not her fault that her young sister Wendy had gotten herself in trouble falling pregnant for a dead beat dad that had her committing suicide at the tender age of 23. Wendy had left behind three-year-old Helen, a very beautiful but emotionally withdrawn child whose fate aligned not with that of the gods, but that of sinful mortal man. Continue reading
John McConnell was a deviant. He was also a god.
I once saw him quench a cigarette butt in a Salvation Army donation box. With the same hand, I watched him guide a frail elderly woman across the deathly streets of Wellingdale.
I will be the first to admit that I was deeply enamored by the man’s enigmatic persona. But, was it he I was most curious about, or was it my own interest in his deviance I was looking to explore?
John was the wind that announced the tornado right before it struck. Some people would argue that he was the tornado itself. On those rare occasions, I had both the fortune and misfortune of stealthily feeling his pulse. On first contact, I felt the familiarity that came with interacting with a fellow human. It was a warm tinge, and though fleeting, I was just glad to be made aware of its existence. A few more seconds of willing my nerves into venturing into uncharted territory, I found exactly what I was looking for; John McConnell was me. Continue reading
The universe must have had a bone to chew with Ruth, because one morning, without warning, she had the misfortune of learning that the man she had loathed for over thirty years was undeserving of her contempt.
“I have to tell her the truth honey,” Sandra whispered to her husband.
It was forty-three minutes past the hour of 2 in the morning. No human in the Khumalo residence had any business being up at such an ungodly hour. As they would soon come to learn, there is always a price one has to pay for going against the laws of nature.
Ruth inched in closer to the kitchen door. Her mother was sitting on a kitchen stool while her father stood a short distance away, his back resting against the fridge. Despite not hearing her name in her parent’s conversation, Ruth knew they were fighting about her. It was all they seemed to do since she announced her wedding date, three weeks ago. With only two days to I do, there were a lot of seemingly don’t-whisperings between her parents she desperately needed to get to the bottom of. Continue reading
Apparently, I am a married man now.
I met Tawanda when I was fifteen beers high and six feet deep into sin. That’s what my friends tell me, but I lost count somewhere around five, or was it six…or seven?
I like Tawanda very much. A woman whose beauty comes to life whenever my eyelids are barely able to themselves up, I wish I knew what her last name is. Her image is ever so fleeting, but it is a constant I crave as if my life depends on it. Tawanda, my demon in shiny Brazilian hair. Continue reading
The atmosphere in Shadreck Mtonga’s office was icy cold. Gilbert was sweating a storm under his dark blue Armani suit. He wanted to choke the life out of his partner for putting him in such an awkward position. He wished nothing but for the ground to open up and swallow them both. Continue reading
It was 2 in the morning when Andy Mwila got into bed after the night out with the boys. Continue reading