EYES: Chronicles of a teenage seer
My books were almost to my chin as I walked to the kitchen, grabbed a bite of toast from my brother; TB’s plate.
‘Hello, oracle’, my brother, TB said. TB means Tamuno Belema. He was teasing me as usual. TB was my twin brother and unlike me, he was at the top of the high school food chain; popular, a jock and just good looking. I was good looking too, I mean which black person on the earth ain’t fine but I was the weird twin, the lesser twin but I didn’t care actually.
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