NEW PIECE: "BIRD"
NEW PIECE: BIRD
By Kenechukwu Ibeneme
The wind whooshes in my ears. The world is a distant place. I am flying.
My mother told me I was meant to tower over everything. I wish she was alive to see me now.
The wind pricks my eyes; these are happy tears.
You're destined for great things, you know, Cynthia said to me. We were in our SS3 classroom. We had just done our final WAEC examination.
I remember her rubbing my chest and smiling, my arm around her shoulders. We were going to be in the same university. We would graduate together and get married.
That was over five years ago. Cynthia's husband owns this building, a five-storey plaza. I never got admitted.
I feel like I just wasted my money on you, my father's words ring in my ears.
His shop is on the ground floor. He sells motorcycle spare parts.
He will see me soon.
Soon.
The world looms. People cluster around, walking and talking. I blink, and the tears burn the corners of my eyes.
Happy tears, I swear.
I touch the ground. A quick, stabbing pain rocks my body. The last thing I see, in the periphery of my rapidly whitening vision, is a grey pigeon scurrying away. I wonder if I will be a bird in my next life.
By Kenechukwu Ibeneme
The wind whooshes in my ears. The world is a distant place. I am flying.
My mother told me I was meant to tower over everything. I wish she was alive to see me now.
The wind pricks my eyes; these are happy tears.
You're destined for great things, you know, Cynthia said to me. We were in our SS3 classroom. We had just done our final WAEC examination.
I remember her rubbing my chest and smiling, my arm around her shoulders. We were going to be in the same university. We would graduate together and get married.
That was over five years ago. Cynthia's husband owns this building, a five-storey plaza. I never got admitted.
I feel like I just wasted my money on you, my father's words ring in my ears.
His shop is on the ground floor. He sells motorcycle spare parts.
He will see me soon.
Soon.
The world looms. People cluster around, walking and talking. I blink, and the tears burn the corners of my eyes.
Happy tears, I swear.
I touch the ground. A quick, stabbing pain rocks my body. The last thing I see, in the periphery of my rapidly whitening vision, is a grey pigeon scurrying away. I wonder if I will be a bird in my next life.
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