Short Story Galore serialization 2
SOMETHING CALLED LIFE
When she came home, she was
crying. Her hair, the long, black, silky type was all mussed up, but her
clothing was not dirty, torn, missing buttons, just routinely rumpled as
expected of clothes when they are worn.
Her immediate senior brother,
Uche (short for Uchenna, not Uchechukwu or another extension of Uche), who was
also the first born of the family, was seated on the couch, watching a Shan
George movie on the VCR.
Once he observed her … and her
condition, her face streaked with tears dripping onto her blouse, he was on his
feet immediately, after pushing the ‘pause’ button on the remote control and
dropping it on the sofa.
He was the only person at home
and he rushed over to her and put his arms around her.
“Kate, Kate, what’s it, what
happened?”
When she didn’t answer, more
questions poured out of his mouth. “Was it a fight? Did you happen on a
shooting? Did some stranger accost you? Could he have gone far within the time
it took you to get home?”
Uche was in his sophomore year at
the University of Lagos. He was very strong but gentle and was respected a lot
in the neighbourhood. He had proved his mettle in a couple of fights that he
was a tough considerate guy who could tangle both ways: good and bad.
As a result, none of their area’s
delinquents, bullies and wise guys could mess around with any of his family
members as they would have him to account to which was why he was thinking
whatever had happened to Kate had to be the doing of somebody passing through
the area.
“No … no … no … U … che,” she
sobbed into his shoulder. She was shaking and he could feel it vibrating off
his system. By now he had steered her over to the divan and they sat on it with
his arms still comforting her.
He spoke with a soothing tone.
“So what happened, sis? What? Please tell me. Get it off your chest.”
She buried her head in his
shoulder as a fresh spasm shook her. “Oh … Uche,” she trembled. “Are we alone?
What of mum?”
Her asking after their mother
made him realize the graveness of the situation. Mrs Nwafor travelled just four
days ago which she knew. So why was she asking for her when she was aware that
she wasn’t in the country?
He knew it could only mean one
thing. Whatever she went through, or saw, was nerve wracking and had toyed with
her mental balance. He’d better call Doctor Howard and their pop.
Note: This is the first page of the Oseyiza Oogbodo book, Short Story Galore, which is available
as an eBook on Amazon.
His other available eBooks are The
Newell Murder, The Good Life, Dedication To The Ugly, I Wasn’t Paid For My Bill
Clinton Performance, I’m Not A Husband Snatcher, Most Musicians Are Like
Beggars, The Billionaire Entertainers, Nigeria Is Better Than America, Michael
Jackson Didn’t Inspire Me, Ear Rings Are Meant For Slaves, Demons Tremble At My
Sight, The Man Who’s Seen His Own Funeral, If My Daughter Becomes A Prostitute,
Reading Is Dying Because Of Mothers, Jesus Will Return Through Nigeria, DJs
Don’t Support Good Music, It’s Nonsense To Beg, Pay For Awards, two
stand-alone short stories, The Gamble and The Parcel, and a stand-alone article,
Women Don’t ENJOY Sex.
All of them are available digitally on Amazon.
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