AnneAndrew's creative and sensational when it comes to composing music. His lyrics are beautiful. His thoughts and feelings convey poetic emotions that allow you to feel what he feels. His songs, most times, gave me goosebumps, and sometimes watery eyes. Other times, I’m cavorting unintelligently, moving to the fast-paced beats. He never failed to take me along on his musical rides.I’d gone to their apartment three more times since the first one. I spent all with Andrew, listening to him play and create new songs in his home studio, right inside his room. Honestly, it was fun. His songs gave out both nostalgic and refreshing feelings all at once.A few times, I had playfully sung along in my terrible voice. Trust me, it’s awful compared to Andrew's sweet tenor voice, yet, every time I tried stopping, he would smile and urge me to continue. I knew I had no hope when it came to singing but with the way Andrew gave me encouraging nods, I felt like I could compete with the likes of Celin

Vincent Anne’s presence increasingly brightened my mood from the moment she walked in through the door until now. For the past few weeks, I’ve been feeling so frustrated and handicapped. My patient diagnosed with cancer has been getting worse and my efforts to help him came out futile. I can’t ascertain the reason for my mood change. Maybe, it’s the aura she exudes or how clumsy she gets. Whatever it was, it left me wondering. After the food we had, I had gone up to tidy Andrew’s room because I knew the storm wasn’t abetting anytime soon. I also knew she would be more comfortable staying in Andrew’s room where she’s more familiar with, rather than the guest room. I straightened Andrew’s bed and took my time to remove all his clothes lying around, then walked down the stairs to summon Anne. On reaching the living room, I noticed Anne was no longer sitting on the couch. I looked around but there was no sign of her. I didn’t hear her come upstairs and the storm was still raging, s

Anne ‘What just happened?’ I stared at nothing in particular. Andrew has led me off the stage after our almost kiss. His phone had vibrated and he had left in a hurry after seeing the caller ID. I wondered what would have happened if he didn’t receive the call. Would I have let him? I found my seat and collapsed on it, my mind reeling. What was going on between Andrew and me? He was going to kiss me and I would have let him. Was that what I wanted? I glanced around the room. Jane and Pamela were really enjoying themselves with their partners on the dance floor. Dr. and Mrs. Sawyer were moving around, smiling and talking with their guests. My eyes landed on Vincent who was dancing, well more like moving rigidly with the Barbie on the dance floor. The lady on his arms was all smiles, exposing her annoyingly beautiful dentition. I wondered if he would have been moving like that if I was the one in his arms. As if reading my mind, his head turned to me, and our eyes met. He sur

AnneAndrew’s flight was in the evening, so he had picked me up earlier to spend some time with him before he left. He also wanted me to help cheer Vincent up. Vincent's been cooped in his room since the previous day. According to Andrew, Vincent’s patient with cancer wasn’t getting any better. The male patient had decided that the best thing was to stop his chemo and all the drugs that made him sick. He was going to spend his last days with his family. Vincent was trying to recuperate from all that event, but all Andrew could see was his brother’s deteriorating mood. He was dreading leaving him in that state. We entered the house and headed straight to Vincent's room. I had imagined his room to be razor-sharp neat with everything in place. It was pretty close if not for the few books scattered all over the reading table and the rumpled bed where Vincent lay beneath the covers, with his eyes closed.His room was set in white and black contrast, the same as the living room. Some furn

Anne “Not bad,” Vincent acknowledged as we walked side by side along the empty road away from my hostel. This was the area we called the sambisa forest due to its underdevelopment, but the school recently had it revamped, giving it a tourist worthy landscape. Though it wasn’t a place filled with long grasses and sand anymore, it still retained its name and unpleasant memories. “Told you,” I beamed. He removed his blue Jean jacket and held it down on his left hand, leaving just his signature white polo and a black pair of jeans. “How’re your studies?” He asked, staring ahead while swinging his jacket back and forth. He looked so relaxed it made my heart swell. “Stressful as always,” I answered. He chuckled and glanced at me. “Yeah!” I emphasized. “Hmm,” he moaned, pouting his lips thoughtfully. “Well, you signed up for it.” “I know! I love the practical and all but we’ve been getting no breathing space lately. We didn’t even leave for the school break due to the unending pra