If you can manage it
Except when you make love to her
Do not make her cry often.
In retrospect I suffer wisdom
Because I learned the hard way
Tears make up your love in her heart.
Every time you make her cry
You deplete her love for you
Happy tears though, fill love back up.
They get ‘cried – out’ sir
Then they feel nothing
Indifference is the opposite of love.
There is a quota
It will be met one way or another
By you or another
This need must be met.
Said quota is a desire
Arguably a burning need
Disagree all you want
This need must be met.
It mostly sets the sexes askew
They become inept umpires
Regulating psychological needs
This need must be met.
The woman must talk
The man must have sex
Each at moments deemed ludicrous
This need must be met.
Bleak ice-blue walls thickening still
All frosty; naught moist nor turgid
So cold. So polite. Desolate…
I have left her
I should be with you
Yet we are bereft…
It should be you here
It was all for us
Pyrrhic this victory.
Bleak ice-blue walls thickening still
All frosty; naught moist nor turgid
So cold. So polite. Desolate…
“Tan largo me lo fiáis”
(translated as “What a long term you are giving me!”)
List of Characters:-
1) Don Juan (The Black Version)
2) The Mother in law
3) The Wife
4) The Wife’s Sister
5) The Father In Law
Don Juan (The Black Version)
“Mankind is wicked; I am a man.”
The Mother In Law
Monique was not sure what it was about her son in law that she disliked. In truth, there was nothing obvious to dislike. He was wealthy. He was a good looking young man. He was charismatic and suave. His confidence oozed. He was a great speaker and was frequently on television seducing viewers with his eloquent delivery. Most importantly, he made her daughter happy.
But… There was something ‘dark’ about that boy, she thought. She did not trust him. His innocent, piercing eyes held yours always. No, this boy was ‘no good’. She could not put her finger on the issue, but her maternal instincts were never wrong.
The Wife
Celeste was in utopia! Her friends were green with envy and told her so always. She had snagged a major one. Don Juan was quite literally every woman’s dream. Tall, dark, handsome and rich. He was generous, likeable and good in bed. The sound of his voice always caused her ‘lips that could not speak’ to moisten. In urban parlance, she was dick-matized!
He was kind and gentle to her. He pretty much left her to her own devices. He always pampered and spoiled her rotten. They were so in love!
The Wife’s Sister
Uhmmm…maybe later. It’s too early in the story to feature this character. Please be patient.
The Father In Law
Derek was discombobulated. He was a rich man. A devoted father of two beautiful daughters and husband to one wife. He was a rich and powerful man. He was feared and respected. Many young men had unsuccessfully tried to marry his angels. Scallywags! Scoundrels! Gold diggers!
Not Don Juan though. The boy wanted nothing! He did not seem to want anything but to be part of his daughter’s life. He was respectful, thoughtful and handy. He always knew someone that could get anything done. Two years into the marriage with his daughter, and everything was picture – perfect. Celeste was a handful, just like him – her father. She was opinionated and stubborn. Proud and spoilt. But Don Juan was the perfect husband and son. Yes, the son he never had. The son he wished he had.
The Wife’s Sister
Oi! Again with the pressure?! We talked about this before…
Uhmmm…maybe later. It’s too early in the story to feature this character. Please be patient.
Don Juan (The Black Version)
“Whenever your woman becomes irascible. It may be seasonal or locked in her DNA. That my friend is the time to woo her, pamper her, make love to her… So she never suspects that you are banging another woman more agreeable.”
The Father In Law
Derek was paralyzed with fear. His ulcers seemed intent on killing him the next minute. His bowels were loose and he was perspiring profusely. How could this have happened? Monique, his wife had swooned again. The detectives had arrived to confirm their worst fears. His daughter, Celeste’s sister, had been kidnapped. The ransom was set at ten million dollars. The money was not the problem, but they all knew that his daughter would not return the same way again. Maimed perhaps. Raped whilst being videotaped, certainly. (for future extortion and leverage). Killed, fifty percent likely.
The country was a zoo!
Don Juan (The Black Version)
“Things happen, not always within a man’s control. What he may control is his reaction, and the inherent advantages every tragedy encapsulates.”
The Mother In Law
Monique was a nervous wreck. Her blood pressure was currently sky high. She was also currently the sole owner of the worst migraine this side of the Atlantic. She was in and out of consciousness. The sedatives the family doctor had given her were just enough to make her drowsy. Derek, her poor Derek was in and out of her bathroom so frequently that her massive bedroom now reeked of vomit and diarrhea.
Then she heard Don Juan on the phone. He was speaking in a strange patois she was vaguely familiar with. Broken English. Pidgin English. She did not know that he had it in him. His voice was now a sinister rasp. He was threatening somebody. He was giving an ultimatum. He was threatening retribution up to two generations. He was promising death. Painful death in such detail that as she listened on she broke out in vivid goosebumps. He was not Don Juan at the moment… This was a maniacal demon!
She did not think that he loved her family this much. Maybe she was wrong about him.
The Wife’s Sister
Oh for crying out loud! Is this your story?! I cannot work under these conditions! Not yet I said!
Uhmmm…maybe later. It’s too early in the story to feature this character. Please be patient.
The Wife
Celeste beamed widely at her parents as the Uber crept up the driveway of her parent’s house. There was another car driving behind the Uber. It was occupied by three men of the underworld. Her parents grinned weakly back. Their necks stretched in anticipation and apprehension at the approaching vehicles. As her sister stepped out of the car, her mother sank to her knees and wept in relief. Her father ran up and bodily lifted his lost but found daughter in a bear hug.
Celeste smiled proudly at her husband. Her man. The hero of the day. One phonecall was all it had taken. The three men had exited their vehicle too. They had spread out strategically. They were all armed with hand guns. They all wore masks that hid their faces. They were a jumpy, skitterish and shifty lot.
Her sister walked up to her and warmly embraced her. Then turned towards Don Juan and launched herself into his arms crying.
Don Juan was holding a small gym bag full of money. A token for the thugs that had delivered her sister. So he could not hold up her sister for more than a few seconds. He gently set her down but she clung to him like a USB in a manufacturers approved slot/port.
Her sister had a massive crush on her husband, it was an open secret. Most women did.
Just then, her drama queen of a mother (still on her knees) let out a blood curdling shriek. The ‘crazed’ mother snatched up a large ceramic calabash that adorned the small fountain in front of the house and arose. She charged at an unsuspecting Don Juan bringing the vessel viciously down towards his head.
The Wife’s Sister
Queen had been Don Juan’s lover for as long as he had been Celeste’s husband.
Don Juan had told her that he should have married her instead of Celeste. His wife was a misguided feminist. A rebel with no cause. A spoilt self centered brat.
Don Juan had promised to elope with her. They were in love.
His role in her rescue had caused her to abandon a bit of common sense and discretion. When she hugged him, she had naturally reached behind him to cup his taut, muscular buttocks. He responded by subtly, almost imperceptibly driving his hip into hers.
Just then her mother looked up and caught them. And then mother dearest simply ran mad.
A gunshot rang out.
The bullet went straight into her mother’s forehead killing her instantly. The perpetuators scurried into their car and zoomed off towards the gates.
And great was the pandemonium forthwith…
Don Juan (The Black Version)
“All that you know is all you have learned. All that you have learned is not all there is to know.”
THE END.
Hey man…
I greet you.
My efforts at surveillance show me that you have developed an affinity for my blog. So I have decided to ‘talk’ to you here.
I am not sure what you hope to achieve by stalking me in person. Yes I have seen you at least five times this week. I had to beg my friends not to break your leg.
Literally beg.
I begged on your behalf. I do not beg. Yet I begged for you because I know that you are a fool.
Let me address the tiger in the kitchen. Let me confront your problem headon…
Yes I slept with your wife.
Severally.
Are you happy now? I have given you evidence in writing. If you require pictures, please ask me nicely. I will consider your request thoughtfully.
I am not sure what you think you will achieve by following me about. I see you at my book readings. You even bought a copy of all my books. Yes we saw you. You featured prominently via CCTV footage playback. I own that hotel by the way. Your body language piqued the interest of my security outfit.
I saved your life that day too.
Since I suspect that you will soon be murdered, let me help you. Allow me attempt to dilute your foolishness with understanding as concerns your wife.
She is not worth the effort. Your wife is fundamentally disturbed from deep within. You are bereft of the competence her issues require. It is not your fault.
Your woman has the sex drive and morals of an alley cat. She will copulate with anyone. She is open to any sexual deviance, as long as she has Tramadol in her system. She is a junkie. Trust me, the revelation of her list of lovers will hasten your impending death.
Unjustifiably, your affair with her friend upset her beyond belief. She is getting back at you. I suspect that you bedded the said friend in retaliation for adultery. You both need copious amounts of Jesus. Just bask in His presence or something. You both require spiritual help.
I am prominent. I am popular. I am a celebrity. I am your preferred ‘scapegoat’. I understand your myopic reasoning.
Like others before you, mention my name and you will enjoy undivided attention. So I guess it is easy for you to latch unto my legacy and try to get some succor. You will not get an ounce of flesh off me. I am essentially a spirit. You are playing with hurt, a lot of pain, grief and eternal damnation. Your demise will physically hurt you because I will not be there to beg for your life.
My posse have no tender mercies.
Consider this your last warning.
In my world if you “do anyhow; you will see anyhow…”
Your wife was with me for two days and three nights. We met Friday night at my lounge. She left my suite on Monday morning.
She was dressed like a call girl. I hear that she lives in the same house as you. I learned that you were at home when she left to go ‘hang out’ without you or the kids that Friday. I learned all these after that weekend.
You sir, who is incapable of calling your woman to order has the temerity to stalk me?
Me?!
You could not even get junkies to sell you a gun. That aberration you call a sawed – off shotgun will kill you if you ever get to pull its trigger. It is a faulty contraption. Every dude worth his turf on our streets know that gun.
There… I just saved your life again.
Dude… Chill.
Die for a cause more worthy than that succubus you call your wife.
She hates herself.
She hates you.
She even hates the pope. And she is catholic!
She wants you dead, for no tangible reason. She told me so.
You know that I am right.
Her issues were not immediately obvious. She was high and drunk. And I was uncharacteristically immoral that weekend.
As of thirty minutes ago, she is still maintaining her lie of not being married. If you ask nicely, I may ‘munch’ that chat and send to you.
Charity begins at home. Sort it out with her.
If you are seen stalking me again…
Well…
#may16
Dear Tommy,
Sup?!
I’m sure Ayisha called you. Hmmm I can only imagine what she told you. Saw your calls, I could not pick up. I am not myself.
As you know, yesterday was my birthday and I also launched ‘MAY 16’ my new novel. Ayisha rallied around and did her bit. It was satisfactory. I expected more from my girlfriend and mother of my one child, but that is not my issue now.
Nneka called me. Yes the same Nneka. You of all people know that I am in good terms with ALL of my ex’s. But because of Ayisha I have pushed Nneka far away. I do not want to go through that type of public fiasco again.
Anyways she called me to wish me a happy birthday and then she told me that she still loved me and always would. She also said that she would leave any man for me. She said that she could do anything for me. I told her that I loved her too and wished her well in her upcoming marriage.
Are you with me so far!?
At about six pm yesterday, she called and invited me to her lounge. Now we are in the same social groups and in the same social networks. We always use her lounge for ‘surprise’ birthdays. It is an open secret. It is not rocket science to our circle of friends anymore.
I assumed that it was my turn.
Are you following me so far?
When I got there, sure enough the place was filled with the same usual suspects. I still thought they would do something and wish me a happy birthday.
Nneka owns the lounge so she ordered a bottle of Hennessy for both of us. We were all up in the VIP.
I lost track of anything after two shots. You and I know that it would take a full bottle of Hennessy to get me inebriated. I believe that she slipped in a roofie or something.
I was in and out of consciousness for a while. I came to at one point and she was having sex with me. I was sitting and she was on top. We were still in the lounge because I could hear music. We had unprotected sex.
At another point when I surfaced from the haze she was in my lap crying. At another point, we were having sex again. And again she was on top.
Her wedding is in a week. Even when we dated, we always used condoms. And I know her, she is the purest of souls. As you know, the only reason we parted ways was because Ayisha got pregnant. Nneka could not handle that curve ball. But shortly after, even you know that she tried to come back. You know that if I asked Nneka to marry me right now, she would.
So why would she do this? I know why…
Anyways, I don’t know how I got home. I woke up before dawn to Ayisha physically assaulting me. She beat me out of sleep yelling out that I cheated on her. The insecure woman had stripped me naked as I slept. Not to make me comfortable, but to sniff my private parts. She found what she was looking for.
I did not retaliate. I got dressed and left the house. The entire neighbors were out and had even called the police. I left before they arrived.
In other news, the writers residency to Canada came in two days ago. I have been offered a three month residency to finish my next book. I have accepted as at eight am this morning.
So why did Nneka do it? Simple… Her wedding is in a few days, and she would rather be with me. Since she cannot yet, she has taken my seed. She and her husband are going to raise me and her baby without his knowing. Or consent.
They are relocating to Canada.
Are you still following me?!
I hope to see Nneka in a few hours. I will try to get her to cancel her wedding and marry me. She is not picking up my calls though. I do not think she intends to ever pick up again.
If I fail to see her (I do not think she intends to ever see me again), I will have at least three months to locate her in Canada.
Why?
She went to an extreme I appreciate. Our separation was not because of lack of love. Nneka would die for me. That is the kind of woman I want.
I am not leaving Ayisha because she assaulted me. It is just that right now I know that it is Nneka I want.
I have dumped my cell phone number. The police are looking for me I hear. Ayisha is at work again, maligning my good name. You know she has clout. Lol, I am in so much trouble!
I will call you in a week. I will use the ‘Hotspot maneuver’… Wink…
Tell mummy. She will understand. Get her to tell daddy.
It will all work out… You know who I am and what I can do. Have I ever failed in anything I really wanted? So do not worry. Just pacify Ayisha and buy me four months. Or better still just check up on Myra for me often and stay out of me and Ayisha’s drama.
Aiight… This is your favorite black sheep brother bleating on up outta here!
Peace!
P. S: Go to my ‘safe house’, key is by the fountain, under ‘that’ stone… ENJOY! wink… Wink…
Everything happens in, and for a season
Every word for a reason.
Loyalty, I fear, is a an expensive tradeoff
Apportion trust deliberately thereof.
Protect yourself at all times
Against love, religion – all the sublimes!
To be forewarned is but divine courtesy
Lips ultimately leak evil you cannot see.
Even if you currently have no clue
Read again, and glean a truth or two.
