He sat back in the jacuzzi, taking another sip from the glass of white wine he had. The day was moving fine and at the leisurely pace, he loved. Taking a few days off from work was the best tonic for his itch for a change of scene. Sometimes, you gotta dump the job on the underdogs and have yourself some fun. He wasn’t ready to swot blind while there was much fun to be had outside work.
Occasionally-not seldom-, he thought of Ira;but he had things way more important than her for example, the cat lying and sunning herself on a mat by the poolside, sipping the same wine as he. Ira was too ninny-minded for him, she seemed to take them as a thing that would last for a long time leaving him laughing at her antics.
As sure as hell, she was dreaming of wedding bells but he wasn’t the kind of guy to be trapped by unsophisticated, classless ladies like she w
On the other side of the city in an average apartment, a twenty-six year old brunette stood worried in her apartment. Her right hand tapping nervously on the desk. She hadn’t seen or heard from Matt in about three weeks and was getting terribly worried about him. She now had a horde of unanswered calls and texts to him. Finally, with a resigned shrug. She left the room for the kitchen. She wasn’t surprised, he was reverting to his usual style. Matt the Flash was fading; and real fast. She couldn’t help it, could she? Entering the kitchen, she warmed the leftover chicken sandwich she found and fed her stomach. No way in hell was she going to bother herself over his misdemeanours. She ate it in her sitting-room on a cushion, silently seething but controlling it; Afterall, she knew what she had signed up for. She turned her mind to more impor
Ira sat demurely and tried listening to and digesting what Doc Fleming had to say. He gave her an overview of her mother’s state of health. Brianna had been fighting a losing battle with Leukaemia for seven and made no mention of it to Ira. All this was so terrifying, thought Ira. She sat staring hard at him without seeming to register the import of his words. Brianna’s condition had deteriorated over the past few years. She had gone into a faint some hours earlier while tending to her garden in Westside, Kory. She slipped into a coma after that and there was a slim chance of
Brianna looked like something from a ghost movie[no offence]. Her once glorious olive skin was now pale and as white as sheet. Her glorious dark locks now thinned so much, the remnants could fit on the head of a medium-sized doll. Her eyes –ever so quick and bright- now looked tired and had a great too many worry lines for her age.Her face was half-covered by an oxygen mask. She didn’t know much about hospital machines, having never been admitted into one before but she could at least guess the one with the zig-zag lines was the EKG. All this was taken in in one glance. She gingerly stepped into the room as if the floor was lined by vicious stinging scorpions and stood next to Brianna’s bed staring at her; trying so hard to picture her without the mess of wires linking her to machines that Ira felt, no longer supported but kept her alive. She didn’t even notice the doctor’s exit.
Craig impatiently lit another cigarette as he stood, leaning on his car beside some rat-infested alley in Whelp. The stench coming from the trashcans behind was much worse than when he worked the toilets way back in high school. Checking his time-piece, 14:13 hours. He’d been standing there for what…..an hour at the least and during that time had reduced his pack of Camels to a deplorable state. So much for agreements, where in hell was the damn kid he was supposed to meet. An unkempt-looking dark kid in scuffed boots with dreadlocks, tattered jeans and a too-large overcoat bumped into him smelling like a beer salon. ‘Whoa, whoa, whoa, whossamatter with you?’, he said and checked his pockets; one could never be too sure in Whelp. The scum and low-lifes of Kory resided here; this was their headquarters. Pimps, whores, druggies, pick-pockets.. name it, and you
PROLOGUENB: The currency in use here is fictional - The MionRaina`s feet crunched on the pavement, weary from a long hard day’s work. She longed for the comfort of her bed, the cool air emanating from her bedside fan and a lovely dinner. The last, she mused could not be possible as she reasoned that she would have to make a light preparation for her supper. Her day had been a very hectic one as papers streamed in endlessly from the departments of the company. Queries to look into, treaties with sister companies to sign, federal policies to implement and above all factory problems to attend to. The newly bought truck for the transportation of newly designed clothing had suddenly developed engine trouble which her technicians could not decipher. Above all, a query
‘Cunt!!’ ‘Prick!!’ she countered ‘Cunt-lapping ass !! you take all the money I made and disappear……. ‘Now let’s git something straight lady, I brought and introduced you to the right guys when you was a nothing and now, you git a taste of the real dough you wanna turn around and scram?!! That ain’t no way to treat me ‘cos I own you, ye gat dat I own you BITCH!!!’ ‘You can haave the fucking dough but I ain’t selling ass anymore. Fuck off you sonovabitch’ she stormed out of the apartment releasing a bang that shook the building awakening
Ira felt like collapsing on her bed and becoming dead to the world.Having had a rather hectic night . Why was tonight so tasking?, and above all, ‘When on earth was she gonna throw up this job for better employment’,that was only a question only…., her thoughts were interrupted by the beeping of the microwave,’There there’ she thought,’ dinner’s ready’ .She went into the kitchen, went through the ritual of emptying the food into a plate and filling her hungry stomach before she developed an ulcer.Her stomach full and her body refreshed from the bath she had just had, Ira picked up her copy of James Hadley Chase’s The Way The Cookie Crumbles wondering what her life would have been like if she was the ‘Ira’ mentioned there. With that, she fell into a slumber fit for the dead.She awoke at exactly 09:00 hours, feeling disoriented from the nightmare she had just had, ‘What can’t ha
‘Harry’‘Harry, wake up’‘Shit whossamatter with you’ he turned to face her and opened his eyes groggy with sleep to face the girl standing over him as clothed as Eve. What was her name again? , Violet, Rose, some flower ? hername could be Chrysanthemum for all he cared. All broads were for screwing; So what the fuck was he doing with her name. Last night, she had looked desirable with her bazookas but now, looking at the tit-flesh that had turned him on before;he felt like gagging.‘Can’t a guy have some peace and quiet, whaddya want ?’, he whined and sat up to look at Violet, Chrysanthemum or whatever her name was with disinterested eyes. ‘Ain’t you itching for some lovely loving now, I’m in the mood’ she purred reaching for his zipper but he brushed her hand off and said ‘You are, I ain’t’. Undaunted painted nails laced his chest , ‘But, Harry…&h