Tag: Creative writing
-
The Outcast (Page 19)
Our cousin Pomaa lived with us. Mother felt Pomaa had grown too big to be kneaded into her perfect model of a good girl. So, she sent her away. We were going to the city and a lot of old things and old ways had to be left behind. Unknown to us, Pomaa did not…
-
The Outcast (Page 18)
Whispers. I awoke. Sitting up, I looked around. The windows were open, cold winds ruffling the curtains. The lights were still on. Can’t remember when we dozed off. I rose to turn off the lights, and in the act caught a glimpse of the clock. 12:15am. The whispering must have been in my dreams. Or…
-
Mission Impossible
Sarah and Cliff. They’d only been apart for a week and Cliff already had a new woman hanging off his arm. The news was hard to swallow, but it came from a reliable gossip. Cliff must be out of his mind! We set off to his house to give him a piece of our mind.…
-
Pages flipping
An album, pages flipping as its owner narrated the stories. Of how they met, when he proposed, how many times she turned him down even though she liked him, the games and finally the trophy, which is her ring she got for winning. “What about you, Paul”?“Me? ” I asked, stunned.” Yes! “” Tell us…
-
The Outcast (Page 17)
Whatever invisible hand that was behind the mysterious incidents had an audacious motive: crush the head, render the rest of the body powerless. Our father was the breadwinner of the family. Mother did odd jobs to support, but the income was fickle. I and my siblings were still young, and even most of the extended…
-
Date
She told a jokeAs she held up her cokeTo toastIt wasn’t funnyI raised my glass clumsilyAnd smiled, out of courtesy What is courtshipIf one cannot talk shitWithout burning a friendshipTo a crispTelling the truthAnd tight turns, in my hoodFeedback on cooked foodIs never done by the cook https://wp.me/p6HvcB-cbB
-
The Outcast (Page 16)
We had a new headmaster, a retired district education officer. It seemed the most important lesson he’d learnt during his active years of service was that pupils ought to know hymns. “Gentle Jesus, meek and mild!…” he intoned. He sang it like it meant so much to him. I and my friend Karim would look…
-
Missing cigarettes
I used to steal from my father’s pack of cigarettes. I hid somewhere to smoke. I remember the sensation as smoke escaped my lips, into the air. It felt great. Especially the effect of the heat on the tongue. This went on for weeks. Little did I know that the old man was aware but…
-
The Outcast (Page 15)
One day, I was in class seated beside the window, reading a book, when suddenly someone appeared behind the window. “Patrick! Patrick !” a voice whispered, slipping a little paper into my hand as I turned. It was a boy. Before I could open the paper to read its contents, he vanished. A love letter.…
-
Renewable marriage contract ( Published at The Writers Club)
I am pleased to announce the publication of my fictional piece “Renewable marriage contract” by The Writers Club. I am deeply grateful to the Editor and the team at The Writers Club for showsasing my work. Here is the link to the story : https://greythoughts.info/clubpieces/renewal-marriage-contract
