October 8, 2013


“If you don't have time to read, you don't have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that.”
Stephen King
For the last week and half, i have been burying my head in literature.
I am currently reading "The Thing Around Your Neck, By Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie". It's a collection of short stories written with such poise.Captivating to say the least.
Books have the power to take you everywhere. I am there. That place where paper meets pen.
I was inspired to write a short story. Too short infact, it has no ending.(lol).

Here we go:

'On the morning of my miracle i did not wear high heels. Neither did i put on bright eye makeup nor lipstick.
I waited patiently in line for my testimonial, the story of my journey through faith and how God turned my trials to a testimony.
Of, how he gave me beauty for ashes, and strength for fear. How he turned my mourning into gladness. Of, my tear stained face in-between midnight prayers.
On the morning of my breakthrough all i could do was sing praises, songs of gladness.
I thought about my times of distress that had led me to this point.
I thought about all those people who had looked down upon me and what they would say of me now.
I smiled in triumph.
I thought about all those dreams i had written down and shelved.
All those 'impossible' purchases and destinations and how i could make them possible now.
I looked over my shoulder to peek at the people in line. I thought of their stories too and if they felt the same way as i did.
We were all here and had battled familiar demons. Our stories had similar underlying tones.
It was time to receive our badges of honor. For our time had come.
My name was called out and i approached the counter.
“I am sorry. We have a slight problem”. He spoke from behind the counter.
“Excuse me ?” I responded with shock registered in my voice.
'Your records appear to be missing. Excuse me a moment, as i confer with my supervisor.' He said apologetically.
'Noooo! It can not be.' I whispered a silent prayer as I bow my head in desperate submission.

At that moment, i wished i had put on some makeup. A little foundation to cover the look of fear on my face. A touch of mascara to disguise the sparkle of tears forming at the corners of my eyes.
I should have worn high heels too. To stand tall in the midst of all the heart wrenching suspense.