Melancholia of The Drunk

It’s been seven weeks now, and Staicy’s room is still empty. Her make ups miss her gently touch; the mirror miss her stares; the clothes miss her body that could befit them; her dolls, her bed miss her warmth. More than we do. Her picture lays beside the bed. The curtains to her rooms have… Read more

“Well played… well played… well played..!!!” A man walks through the wooden portal of entry of the cathedral, with gusto embroidered in his sleeves; dripping off from his black trimmed suit onto his sparkly calculated steps. Clasping his hands; still at the entrance, the light sets on his back from the outside, projecting a long… Read more

(Of nostalgia, melancholies and dreams we once had but was forced to forgo) Part 1. Back in high school I had a girlfriend who was just a friend. Occasionally we could talk, share dreams, or sometimes just sit in silence. She was the kind who knew of boyfriends, lovers and love letters long before I… Read more

*#BoredomRandoms* *2* There’s man screaming in my own backyard. His coarse voice clouts through the mud thatched walls of my hut. He’s saying he didn’t do it. He’s saying he doesn’t know the girl. He’s pleading for them to let go off his testicles. They are ripping off his balls from his scrotum. They’re telling… Read more

*WATOTO WANGU WEEE!!!* If you were born in my era, then you’d know. That as kids, the songs we sang on such occasions defined what we once were. What, as time could have it, was lost along the highway to maturity. “Kids” we once were. As a kid I wasn’t the type to be looked… Read more