30 Entries for the month of August.
Happy reading!
lenses_by_ella
“Noooo”. My crazy ex, Zina, just shot the love of my life!
Kamara had woken me up with a kiss on the lips and breakfast in bed. I rushed my food, kissed her heatedly, then left for work. For some months, my unit members at National Space Research and Development Agency (NSRDA) secret base had been trying to crack the code to get the time-machine running, and I had finally fit the pieces of the puzzle together.
I came back to give Kamara the news, and I found her lying in a pool of blood and a note beside her, it read:
Now we can be together forever
.. Like Bonnie and Clyde.
Love, Zina.
I knew it was no use calling the ambulance, ’cause the bullet went straight to her heart. I grabbed the car keys, raced back to the office and parked the car down the road. The office was empty, except for the night watchmen. I passed through the gate undiscovered. I raced to the back, jimmied the lock and entered the lab.
The time-machine hadn’t been tested yet, but I wouldn’t let myself acknowledge that now. I tried to go back to the previous day, but the machine could only go to distant past. I put in the coordinates of the time and place I met Kamara. I see her in the library, looking exactly the way she did the first day I met her. I walk up to her table, and say Hi. She looks up shyly and smiles. That alluring smile, is what I came back for. I’ll deal with the repercussions of being here later. After a while, she starts warming up to me. I can’t wait to capture my love’s heart again… And this time when Zina comes, I’ll be ready.
may_veez
RIP Hazel
She looks so beautiful in that dress. I’m proud of how you always pick out the best gifts for our daughter.
“Shhhh, I think she found the box we left under the table. Maybe she’d try opening it and she wouldn’t want to go out and she’d stay home” My husband Nol said
“Let’s hope she does” I was anxious about this particular plan and doubted it would work
“Why are we hiding outside her window? why don’t we just meet her and tell her she can’t go out today we’re her parents anyway she’d listen to us” I said angrily
“No!” He whispered but sternly “we can’t just do it like that she’d feel we’ve been spying on her and would make things worst we just have to be patient”
“Fine then but I really hope this keeps her… I was cut short by a ringing phone
“Hey girl, sure, no not really, alright I’ll be there in 15” Hazel just got the damned phone call
Hitting his shoulder “I told you we should’ve taken her phone away”
“But you know she’s addicted to that thing and she would spend the entire day looking for it and eventually find us” Nol said with a chuckle
“It’s not funny she’s still going out oh my God Nol I’m freaking out I can’t stand here and watch we need to do something” I said desperately
“We can’t, I’m sorry we need to go time’s running out, look away!” My husband held me
I couldn’t look away, this was the 17th time I watched my daughter die as she stepped outside her apartment a car crashed into her
I still cried
I looked at my husband and he exclaimed ‘guess we’ll have to try again’
#camaawriteupchallenge #camaawriteupchallengefervid @camaa_pearl
officia_eric
My Entry for #camaawriteupchallengefervid
“Don’t give me that. What’s so special about Philip ?, Is it because of his connections ?”. Bode stormed out of the office. “I lost Bunmi for goodness sake. I suffered for those contract. For 20yrs, 20yrs!. And you’re telling me to be calm. For what ?”.
He couldn’t believe what was happening, this was his hope and his life, and it was all going down the drain.
“Mr Bode, Bode!” His colleague beckoned “Try to understand, he had his PhD in Massachusett”
“So ? Bunmi was my PhD, she died for it. After everything ?, Never!”. He zoomed off. In the car, dark clouds invaded his eyes. And he had no choice but to let them drop.
“Damn!, I have failed. How can you ever forgive me Bunmi, how ?” He cried. And almost lost control of the steering.
“I have messed up my life. It is shattered. Gone!. I killed you Bunmi, I did”. He heard the screeching of his tires, opened his eyes and froze
“Welcome back Dad! Welcome to the past” A voice echoed
“What is here ?, Where am I ?” He asked. “Bunmi, Bunmi is that you ?”
“Just the way you wanted it Dad”
“Oh My child, It is you. You’ve not changed” He said, held back. “No Bunmi, You are standing at the same spot. Don’t jump Bunmi, please!!’ He bellowed with fear
He had remembered it all, of Bunmi’s fall. Of her lifeless body and broken bones. It all started this moment.
“Let me go Dad! It is bleak in here”
“I can’t Bunmi. Not again!” He cried “It’s empty out there. Empty! Please my child, please!!” He gripped her
“It’s too late Dad, we live in different times”
“You are suffocating me Bode. Why are you sleep talking ? You are hurting yourself Bode. Bode!” His wife screamed.
onyx_lit
Mr. Eric was the best boss I ever had, he was kind, funny, generous and probably the richest man in Africa, ‘probably’, because nobody knew his true worth. He made his money selling diamonds in the black market and had a weird knack for predicting the future. Every major sporting event and every election, if it mattered, Mr. Eric knew the outcome.
Last week he made a prediction on the champions league, he was close, but wrong, we didn’t care, but he did, he became paranoid. I thought he was mad, until today.
The floor shook, the lights flickered and every electronic went dead, “they’ve come for me” he said, then he ran. Out of thin air emerged 4 humanoid silhouettes brandishing strange guns, “Eric Nwaigwe!” they screamed, unleashing bright lights of great heat that set the room on fire, not giving him a chance to respond. I hid and watched in horror as opposing streams of light traversed the room, the humanoids strutting and firing their weapons, only seeking cover when Eric fired back his strange gun, cutting one of them down.
“Come to me!” He said, I crawled under the blasts to him and shut the door as he threw a grenade in. Stunned, I couldn’t speak until we made it to his car, as he drove he said, “Diamonds are worthless where I’m from, so I took some of it and came here, where it’s worth trillions. They’re police, and no, I didn’t steal the diamonds. It’s just illegal to travel, by coming here I broke the law.”
A light beam exploded the tire, flipping our car. Hanging upside-down by my seatbelt, I again saw four humanoids approaching, phasing through obstacles.
“Where are you from?” I asked, terrified.
He answered, “The year 2645”.
apostle_of_words_
DREAMS AND ILLUSIONS
Last night, you dreamt and ruminated on a phantom of de-ja-vu — being the first moon walker and your eyes counted the cameras after you returned from your astronautic trip. But this time it’s a different ballgame entirely where you bumped into a constellation of spaces counting the centigrade heat shedding off your skin.
Is this all for you? with the bones wobbling and pores oozing and there’s not much air. The atmosphere becomes a barren one and there, the hour-sand-glass with you in which a small sand-pile leaks on to its other side.
Is this hell? You counted your pasts and you wished to fathom what the future held. You were told this hour glass signified time in fantasies, but could this be real? and when the sands ran fully to the other side of the glass, you would be gone!
To where exactly? and where are you coming from or where are you going, perhaps wouldn’t you bump into new rays or what tech would govern the future? What! did Buddha really time-travel? Did he see how banks burned and humans becoming radiated robot men and ate themselves and wasted bodies on the streets — you saw the sun inhabit the spaces of the earth and burned its disc into the sea who kissed it and became a volcano.
There was no water anymore for your dehydrated throat and you tried to take yourself off all you saw. And to turn the hour-sand-glass upside down to the past of primal beginnings, you would have to walk through the fire you came from and bang! You burned and had fervid pains as your flesh and bones dissolved into the fire and then— darkness. Till you disillusioned yourself back to earth.
otblinks00
FEAR
Lydia hurriedly ate her breakfast as she got ready for work, it was a Monday and she wasn’t going to be late. At work, the death of a 12 year old Cynthia that was raped on her way back from the grocery store reminded her of her childhood, lately there has been lots of rape cases meaning lots of nightmares for her, and as the chief editor she’s obligated to write about it on the company’s magazine, she had always wanted to be a writer as it provided her with a safe haven for her fears as a child, a fear that never left her but recently she didn’t know how she felt about it anymore, she suddenly wanted to go home to be with her mum, her head ached.
She felt hands on her thighs and she hurriedly woke up, jumping from the bed, dad not again! she begged, 12 year old Lydia moved back in fear banging the door with hopes that someone will hear her screams and come to her rescue but alas! No one was around, she couldn’t tell her mum or she’ll be dead. Come to daddy! He beckoned but Lydia fought hard, tears streaking down her face, how can you keep doing this to me dad she cried, I’m your daughter! He only smiled wickedly at her as he pushed her onto the bed patting her legs, her eyes scanned the familiar room for the lampstand and with a new found bravery, she hit him on the head, he fell to the ground lifeless, she screamed, her mum rushed into the room, oh my poor baby, another nightmare? I hit him on the head mum, I think he died, its alright my baby she replied, he’ll never hurt you again, you are safe now.
odogwu_of_ibadan
Ayo stood gravely regarding the curvy lady in his front (In her strange dress), observing a
profound silence, and occasionally drawing deep sighs. Sophia has always been like this,
even in their University days.
Dressed in the seductive clothing of hell, Sophia’s loaded shape appeared voluptuous. Her
eyes were shimmering with fake tears that only heightened her seductive appeal. Her lips,
gentle and soft. Her round hips and breasts enhanced with her flowing moon-shadow black
hair.
Ayo unbuttoned his shirt, thereby, revealing his chiseled abs and an overall muscular
physique. He could remember vividly, everything that happened the night before their
convocation. That very night, Sophia murdered him. Not with a bullet or a knife. She killed
him the moment she told him it was over between them. He had watched her leave for
Ghana with her new lover. That day, he swore to revenge.
Five years of being a ‘Yoruba Demon’, but here he is, falling for her enchantment.
Ayo could no longer control the burning desire in him, as he unzipped Sophia’s dress, pulling
her pants to her heel. Of course, she still has those stretch marks on her ass. It turns him on.
He pushed her on the sofa, and began to kiss her in sensual places. Sophia couldn’t help
dragging his hair, as she moaned.
Ayo stopped, and looked into her eyes for a minute, before he slid his six into her deep. He
pounded her angrily, as she shouted ‘Harder’.
Ayo stopped hitting her, upon remembering
what she made him go through, by breaking his heart, the very day he lost his mother. It
was also a day before their convocation.
Ayo withdraws, and rises to his feet. He still finds it
hard to walk her out.
‘Sophia,’ Ayo called her.
‘Yes,’ she answered.
ivans.quist
“There I am, sitting on the red sofa in the family house where I had gone to ‘explain’ myself to everyone – ma, pa and my two siblings – how I managed to go from a decent son and brother to the newest wife-beater in town. Some heavy tears escaped my eyes as I futilely tried to keep them back. Several sniffles in rapid succession made it obvious that I had no sane excuse to tender. Disappointment was written all over pa’s face as he fumbled for his glasses in the darkness of the pouch he often carried under his armpit. Tade and Sade were constantly being nudged by pa to stay longer. And my sweet ma, she could not even bear to look at me!
In between heavy sobs, I cut back to my sitting room where she lay on the floor, her lips bloodied by the several blows I had dealt her. I could still picture a fuming me, standing over her quivering body, hell bent on making her explain the text messages I had found on her phone. She had proceeded to explain but I was too angry to listen, too furious to be calm.
I am suddenly jarred from my reverie by the rapid shuffling of feet as pa led everyone to prayer. I really couldn’t bear the weight of the shame I felt and I make to depart, leaving the manila envelope containing the divorce papers on the centre table”.
“And that was how I lost your mother”, said a ninety-year old me to my children who had come to the old people’s home to pay me their first visit in two decades. I owed them this explanation and it gave me a much-needed peace for I knew I would pass on soon after.
zeera_pat
*TOMORROW TODAY*
Why can’t I be like everyone else? What’s wrong with me? Maybe I am mad.
“Please! Somebody help me! When I close my eyes at night, I try to be normal but something always happens.”
“Nigeria! Nigeria! I’ve been to see your children, the ones that were born a hundred years after Corona! They call it Pre-Corona Era.”
“It’s possible! A time without war, a time with peace and tranquility. Amara and Abdullah together in unity. I saw it! I swear! you have to believe me!”
“No more dark rooms filled with fear, no peace destroyed no death and despair. No children crying tear after tear, their parents alive, all family near.”
Alas! No one believes me. So I close my eyes to the world I’m in and open them up to the one I desire to see. They say I’m lost in time but I see them losing time as they sleep. Their dreams empty, all hope for them lost chasing shadows.
“I am not mad! I am the past! I am the present! I am the future! Oh! no! I think I’m confused.”
Maybe I am mad, but every time I’m in this new Nigeria I feel the sanity in my insanity increasing.
Living in the change I want to see. Almost torn between fallacy and reality as I move away from the world of time. Embracing the peace that awaits me on the other side of timelessness.
Now I go to bed at night, my CV in an envelope under my pillow. I drift to the place where I don’t need connections to gain employment. A place where the leaders of tomorrow are already living in tomorrow. A place where the young shall grow and the old shall go.
sam_the_maestro
I bowed my head to dodge a spear. The battle raged under the blazing sun with blood spilling down the infinite sand dunes of the desert. Swords clanged with shields while arrows and pin- point javelins whooshed past. I couldn’t believe my eyes! I was in the middle of a fierce battle in which weapons I considered obsolete were being used to hack human beings to pieces. I just couldn’t remember the history book which recorded a battle in which Caucasians, Arabs and Negroes fought in a desert in medieval times.
I took one last look at the bodies of the warriors glistening with sweat, the breaking limbs and the falling heads. I saw a distant yellow banner on which was emblazoned : EUROPEAN ARMY, BATTLE FOR THE HEART OF THE DESERT, WW V, 2220. Just as a figure bearing semblance to Osama bin Laden was about to land a sabre in my skull, I pushed the button.
I was back to the present. I stepped out of my apartment to the balcony. Two blocks away, I saw a guy who looked a lot like the futuristic warrior who almost decked his sabre in my skull. This guy was carrying what looked like a travelling bag. He dropped it on the sidewalk and sped off. Queer. Who drops his own luggage and flees from it like it were a monster? It was that moment the bomb went off.
I woke up feeling dizzy looking into the face of a pretty nurse. At first, her words sounded incoherent but I could gather that my right leg had been amputated.
“Nurse, do you know that in the next 200 years, there would be no more bomb blasts?”
“Wow. That’s good to hear,” she replied.
“Not necessarily. Limbs will still be amputated.”
oloyede3790
“You know I love you,” he said pulling her closer to the bed. Their lips locked while they frantically exchanged ptyalin for a minute…she pushed him to the bed. In a few seconds, they were undressed and their bodies began a rhythmic mime. The rush of hormones and the piercing of urges gradually cascaded into moans from the lovers. As if being directed to an interval in the middle of a crescendo’s climax, they stopped abruptly.
The air conditioner was at its highest but the air in the hospital waiting room felt extremely hot to Ojuola. All he could hear were Ronke’s labour cries. After a while, the doctor approached him.
“We lost your wife as a result of extreme haemorrhagging although the babies survived. I’m so sorry.” His world fell apart. The tears making their way down his cheeks felt like lava flowing down the slope of a volcanic mountain. Alas! All was lost…
Ojuola pulled back just as Ronke attempted taking the kiss a notch higher. “NO! I am not doing this. I’ve seen the outcome.”
“What do you mean?” Ronke asked.
“I must tell you the truth Ronke, I recently purchased a Tempora, the new invention that enables time travel and I tried to look into our future. You are to die of childbirth if you conceive for me.”
“Is that it?” Ronke retorted. “I also have to tell you the truth. I purchased a Tempora a few days ago and I saw the same thing. But I thought of it and found that I won’t enjoy a better death than one in which I die while giving life to your kids.”
With that, she pushed him to the bed with all fervour. They were undressed in a few seconds and their bodies started the rythmic mime.
aniefuna.chisom1
THE QUEST
“People of Mozumba, the time have come for our prince to travel to the land of the spirit”. The king commander howled causing a thunderous Aye! Aye! From the people.
Your lips curved into a thin smile as you rummaged your goatskin bag- the charms were intact.
“Don’t let my mama die” a little boy stuttered, pulling your loin clothe.
You reassured him of her safety and left. Half way into the journey a whirlwind blew. You rose up to recite the incantations, but everywhere was suddenly swoon into darkness.
You woke up at the end of a street. Sirens blared. Two men with a badge on their clothe approached you.
“Spirit of the dead, I have come in peace” You shouted clacking your sword on the floor.
” You are in great Britain man! This is not the sixteenth century”.
You looked at them and remembered the stories your father told you of the white man and his gun. This can’t be happening! Is this the plan of the spirits?
“I have to save my people”. You blurted out.
They sent a thunderous slap down your cheeks, handcuffed and took you into a room.
Rings blared and a man in another outfit came in.
“You bloody African, Tell us who sent you to spy on us!” he said slamming the door of the table.
“I need to save Mozumba” You said, sprawling the charm on your goatskin bag on the table. “I am the Prince of- “
“Wait! Don’t hurt him”another man shouted from the door. “There was a breach in the time machine. It was set at his location at that point”.
You grinned as they apologized. One day Mozumba will look like this. But for now, You need to go back and fight the spirits.
*******************************************
afeadebosola
THE INFAMOUS ANSWER
“How did you die?” John directed his question to me.
“Well, I don’t know if I can compete with you; a girl asked for your head on a plate” we both burst into laughter.
I was in a place living people called heaven having a conversation with John. Yes, the one that bibles and holy literatures talk about.
I was involved in a very fatal accident in the year 1900. I didn’t wake up until six months after the incident. The caregivers told me I was in a coma except I was not. Life continued for me in what they thought was a coma.
I was an artist and I had great pride in my craft. In fact too much that I never considered starting a family. I was a lone wolf; the loneliest of them all. I had dedicated my entire life to the profession that put me in a coma.
I got a vision. It was a clarion call. I saw it clearly; in the year 2019, there was an outbreak of some highly deadly virus.
“John, you are you still there?” I checked to see if my audience was dozing. “Of course”
Anyways, as soon as I returned from ‘coma’, I knew I had greater obligation, to tell the world what I had seen. Maybe, they could prepare and spend quality time with the ones they loved.
I thought bringing people together would fill the void in me.
“Then, what happened?” John asked. “I was killed, lit on fire. Apparently, I was a witch that couldn’t be tamed. Now, look at them; trying to save the person from the reflection in the mirror”
#camaawriteupchallenge #camaawriteupchallengefervid @camaa_pearl
queen_jummie_
TITLE – The Antidote
Carl looked intently at his dead wife on the floor, tears streaming down his eyes. His whole world had crashed like a pack of cards, and that in the twinkling of an eye. He wiped his tears and looked at the crystal ball he stole from the magician, shining brightly like a diamond stone
“ I must get the antidote. It’s the only way to save her” he thought to himself. He gave her one last look and placed his hands on the crystal ball. The whole atmosphere became bright immediately, blinding the birds above.
He closed his eyes immediately as the light pierced through him as though it wanted to rip his soul apart.
The light dissapeared and he scratched his eyes in discomfort, trying to recover from the brightness of the light.
He opened them and looked around . He discoverd he was in a dessert;with faint, withered but mostly dead trees scattered around. He walks ahead a little; slowly, looking around in fear. He then stops in front of a withered flower
“ This should be the flower “he thought to himself with uncertainty. He is about to stretch his hand and examine the flower when a mighty eagle flies from nowhere and grabs the flower from him.
It flies away immediately
jones_emmanuel_jones
Wonder why I was reported missing last month? I travelled to the year 1020. I’d always been zealous to visit the past or future. On July 13th I found a time machine in an ancient safe, which took me a thousand years behind time. A hunter found me wandering in a forest. His name was Bundu; the founding father of present day city of Bundu where I come from. The people of the past mistook me for a fallen god. Everything about me seemed supernatural to them – my wears and other things in my bag like; phone, camera, torchlight, lighter, pen, books etc. They were extremely happy that I could speak their language, and promised to build a temple for me where I could live among them forever. Little did they know I am their descendant from the future.
I studied them for a month and learnt a lot;
Although they were scantily dressed there was no report of sexual abuse. They drank untreated water and had no access to modern health facilities, yet lived longer. They were better astronomers as they depended on that to determine times and seasons. My people of the past had so much wisdom, and were rich in art and craft. They built marvels which modern man couldn’t build. I envied their coordination and togetherness. Many lived hundreds of years and died naturally – no plane/ car crash, no bomb blast/ gunshots. But they worked too hard for every little thing, and lacked contemporary experience.
I couldn’t survived two days after my phone went off. I wasn’t fit to the ancient world. My fervidity to travel to the past was satisfied, so I returned back to the present.
“What is today’s date?” I asked my kid sister
“13th August 2020” she said.
rukky_eraks
I am kneeling down in my dark room. I prefer the darkness. I can cry privately that way. It’s been four years. Time should heal me. But I’m not healing.
“God please,” I sob. “Please give me another chance. I need another chance.”
I bow my head. My tears fall to the carpet, making a faint click sound.
Suddenly, I hear a loud bang, like a collision of cars. I jerk my head up to see where the sound came from, but I’m not in my room anymore. I’m in the parlour, sitting on the sofa across from my mother. She is wearing the faded red t-shirt she often wore at home. The one with “GOD LOVES ME” scribbled in blue, on the left breast.
I don’t believe it.
“Mummy?” I ask, standing up. “Is that you?”
“Why are you asking that, Baby?” She looks up at me. “It shouldn’t be me?”
My heart leaps as I hear the voice I’ve missed for four years. I rush into her arms and hold her tight, oblivious to the fact that I’ve started crying again.
“I’ve missed you mummy,” I say between sobs. “I’ve missed you so much”.
“Why are you crying?” She asks, stroking my hair. “I’m right here”.
Then I remember that I haven’t locked the front door as she’d asked me to earlier. I stand quickly and rush to it. Before I get there, three masked men barge in, holding knives.
Before I can scream to alert her, I am sucked back into the dark room, where I am on my knees. Once again, the realization that her death was my fault hits me. My heart feels like it’s being torn apart, all over again. It takes a minute for me to notice, that I’m the one wailing.
rex_wrote
Title: HELLO
Mankind has always been fascinated by the flickering brightness of the stars, we are drawn to the glory of the celestial wonder and splendor.
Our curiosity, by far remains our greatest strength, strength to explore and discover and yet it remains as our greatest weakness, for we neglect the veracity in the simplicity of a line and the consequences that follow the dread of the beyond, as we cross from the familiarity of our existence to the limitlessness of the cosmos.
“The new gods” we called ourselves, when all that we were in truth, were a multitude of fools, who pushed too far into the void, who looked too deep into the night.
NASA did it, at last, the agency had created a satellite capable of amplifying the basic radio frequency, ten million times its capacity, and with this machine in space, we pierced a hole in the sky, we sent a message into the darkness.
The message, a simple four-lettered word ‘hello’ we only said ‘hello’ to the darkness, but the response that we received was not what we had intended, as an Armada of space ships glowing in red, blue and yellow, filled the skies above us, and as they illuminated the skies, the earth grew silent in terror.
The new gods we called ourselves, but we were not gods, only mere mortals indeed, who lacked the understanding of consequence.
We only said hello, when we should have said nothing at all.
And now that the night has answered, the earth falls, she burns.
praiseempress
I heard a loud booming laughter from the corridor, it almost sounded like the laughter of someone who’s crazy.
“Its Feb 19th 2020, we had a deal remember?” I nearly jump out of my skin because the words came from behind me. Before I could even turn around to see who the person was, I felt the warm, heavy breath of someone on my neck.
“What do you want from me?” I asked shivering.
“Your life.”
I turned around and fired my gun, but he was gone. A piece of the wall came flying off from the bullet, but no harm was done.
“What the hell?” I muttered.
“Looking for me?” His voice whispered from behind me again. I turned around, but halfway through my spin, a fist connected with my jaw.
I recoil in pain then I felt his arm wrap around my waist and pulled me towards the bathroom.
“Get off of me,” I grunt, slamming my fist into his face. He didnt even flinch.
“So you want to runaway right,” he says, slamming my head into the counter in my bathroom. Pain shot through my body, and blood seeped out of my head.
I groaned in pain, but he was already on top of me.
I screamed for help as I felt a cold blade cutting into my abdomen.
“Let go of me please…” i cried out, and suddenly a bright light blinded my vision.
I opened my eyes with a severe headache and a dry throat, to see a very odd and creepy place, it looked like a scene from a historical movie.
“Oh dear, I see you are awake”
I turned to see the same man smiling at me softly.
What’s today’s date, I asked him quivering
“It’s Feb 19th 1954”.
thehooded_poet
Mood swings were not new to dale and aimlessly wandering the hallway of his empty school was a relief pill to him.
Lost in his thoughts, digging through his pain and trying so hard to make himself cry proved he really believed that tears were actually filled with waste emotions.
Dale’s yellow raincoat was the only bright thing about that day, he just woke up to his parents divorce and at that point he decided he was never getting married.
The silent hum as he approached the physics laboratory drew him back to reality and an eagerness to snoop around led him to open the door. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and he could see the new machine the school just received from the so called “rich donor”. Snooping around a lab was not fun at least Hollywood made that obvious but dale felt compelled to stay a little.
The clock bell signifying a new hour made dale jolt back in fear, simultaneously applying pressure to a button behind him.
it happened so fast …a bright blue light and dale was thrown into darkness…again
It was quite dark outside and looking through the window, the street looked empty he looked at his palm and they were dusty. Dale felt confused but suddenly he heard his name and out of fear he kept quiet. Just then a man down the street answered, he had a little boy with him and a blonde lady,a shabby beard and a ring, they looked like family. Dale watched as this man walked across the street and as if on cue he looked up locking eyes with dale…Dale was shaken, it was like looking into a mirror but this dale was old.
chimez_kami
The General heaved a sigh as he entered his office. If there was anything he needed to get through the rest of the day, he thought as he made his way to get one, it was coffee. That and the TV show he was looking forward to watching later tonight. Suddenly the phone on his desk rang.
“Hello…. My God!…. It can’t be….“.
The General didn’t realize he had dropped his cup until after the foreboding call. He quickly rushed out of his office yelling for the nearest sergeant.
“You called, sir?”
“Send word to the lab unit, tell them to start prepping for transport at once”.
“But sir, we need the higher-up’s approval to do so“.
“I am well aware and I will take full responsibility, now do as I say”.
“Yes sir”.
A few minutes later the general was bursting through the lab doors with the head scientist in tow.
“General, Project Archimedes is still in its testing phase, it’s not ready for transport”.
“This is a matter of unprecedented crisis. If you won’t do it, I’ll do so myself. Just pull me back after 5 seconds”.
With that he approached the large spherical contraption, code-named Archimedes’ Sphere after the historical Greek mathematician. It’s purpose; time travel. Despite being in its testing phase, never was there a time it was needed the most. After inputting the time and coordinates, he stepped into the sphere and gave the head scientist the ‘go’ for launch. Seconds later he was standing in his living room right at the time after he went to work that day. The transport was a success. Without a moment to spare he quickly grabbed the TV remote and pressed the ‘record’ button. Now he won’t be missing the show tonight he thought.
“Crisis averted”.
mercyohalezim
OUR TRADITIONS
The umunna are having a meeting. Naturally, I wouldn’t be seated in the midst of people discussing absurdities like evil forest burials or superstitions surrounding bloated corpses. Not in 2020, biko, not at age twenty-five. But the meeting’s agenda is Papa’s second or third cousin, Odumegwu’s burial. So for Papa’s sake, I sit, barely listening, unconcerned.
They say because Odumegwu died with a bloated stomach, he cannot be buried on Ngazara soil. They say only those who’ve offended the gods die swollen, that the burial of such persons in the land will incur the gods’ wrath on everyone.
They say these things despite being aware of ailments like hepatitis and kidney failure.
Papa tries to appeal to their sense of reason.
“Umunnem, Odumegwu died of hepatitis, an ailment that could’ve befallen anyone. He committed no crime to deserve the indignity of being buried in the forest. Our traditions need change, kwanu.”
They all oppose and I leave. Like how much more ridiculous could they get? Let them do whatever floats their boats, biko.
As I walk home, a strong wind blows past and I’m suddenly back with the umunna. They are still discussing a burial; not Odumegwu’s any longer, but Papa’s.
“Njemanze died blind. We know the tradition…” Oliseh, my agemate, now looking at least fifty-five, starts to say.
Mama bursts into tears.
“Did he choose to go blind at ninety?” she asks. “I’ll kill myself if my husband is buried like a wild animal.”
In a flash, Papa is buried in the evil forest and Mama makes good on her word – she hangs herself.
So when the wind blows again and returns me to the path leading home, I run back to the umunna, deeply concerned.
“Enough!!!” I scream ardently. “These traditions change today!”
delight_asaph
You see, I have kept this a secret for so long, but I can no longer continue. I must tell you this, so I can return in peace.
I am not from here.
A 100 years from now, the sky disappeared and I was cursed by a woman I grew to love.
Her name was Sally, and she was the most beautiful creature mankind could ever get to see. I had found her homeless, lying on these tattered streets that will later bear the name, Horror. Looking at it now, it’s funny how this beautiful place changed to become the most terrifying jungle.
Well, we fell in love and lived together for a long time before chaos happened or rather, will happen.
You see, that day, I had bought a weird clock from an antique store which appeared in the middle of our town one day, only for me to discover a strange thing.
This clock told a little more than the time!
It worked perfectly well that day but immediately it struck 12 am, it started ticking backward! That night as it ticked, I saw something I will never forget in my entire life.
The next day, I had gone back to return it, but I couldn’t find the antique store. I asked around, only to be told that a store never existed there.
I couldn’t tell my wife what I discovered because I didn’t understand it myself.
It was so sudden when they attacked. They killed her right before my eyes, after she’d cursed me to keep living. The clock ticked backward that night and I found myself here…
Only now have I discovered the strangest reason why it brought me here. It was to meet you.
You didn’t change a bit, Sally.
mazi_nzubechukwu
The commander’s bunker is like nothing she has ever seen. A fortress at least seven feet deep and a sprawling fifty yards.
It is a year and some months into the war and this has become her new reality. Some days her mind wander to times before the war when she was the prudish daughter of academics who hosted happy hour in their home in Nsukka. The chuminess, the throaty laughters, the meekness of the women as their husbands bantered. She reminisces of morning mass, of choir practice, of hours after choir practice when she would drink the honey and lemon mix her mother prepares, crinkle her face, then smile coyly as her dad remarks at how she was such a grown baby.
It was months ago, but it feels like eons. Now: the sound of shells hitting earth; the squealing of petrified children; the harried scamper of people taking cover; the men moaning into her ear as they desecrate her; the excruciating heat of bunkers, has become her new normal.
The commander tells her not to worry, that she need not prostitute any more to cater for herself. That he will cloth her with the respect and dignity of marriage. But she knows better, she has been in the business for a while to know the babble of a horny man. So she hides in his bunker, soaked in her sweat. Dirty. Fervid. She allows the soothing memory of times before the war lull her to sleep.
Deborah wakes with a start. The room is frigid from the air conditioning, but she is sweating. She checks the time, it’s eight hours from her last medication, she is due for another round. She smiles weakly, she never seemed to get it; her weird dreams whenever she was down with malaria.
dexter.alex.98
No one would believe him unless he had proof. He’d expected it to take a lot longer, considering that the past half decade was something he’d only agreed to on a wager, it marveled him that he’d still accomplished it.
Idris Audu had successfully created a time machine.
He had created a time machine, but an untested device meant it could all still go wrong. A final glance at his calculations summed up his expectations. The quantum physicist proceeded to turn on the machine.
Idris would first test it on himself. He would simply travel forward in time by five minutes. He’d concluded that traveling backwards in time would be too difficult to accomplish — time being linear and all.
He would simply hitchhike on a particle in time and be deposited five minutes in the future. He flicked the switch and the machine whirred to life, he was sucked in and a moment later, was standing on the same spot. His stopwatch hadn’t moved, a failed experiment. Idris looked up at his house to see smoke coming from the windows.
The scientist rushed in, grabbing a fire extinguisher. The origin of the fire turned out to be his lab, his computer had caught a blaze and right before it was a man in a gas mask, staring over his documents. Acting quickly, he smacked the hard end of the extinguisher over the head of the intruder, knocking the man over the computer which let out sparks.
Coughing from the flames, Idris pulled the mask from the man’s face and put it on. Staring over the table at the intruder, he felt a shiver go down his spine as he recognized the man in front of him as himself. A sharp pain came from behind his head and everything turned black.
adesina_ajala
A World on Water
You walked into the museum. It’s probably “museum” was derived from “muse”. A place that inspires. Or from “amuse”. A place of surprise. Or it’s possibly a place where both experiences exist.
The museum has a modern outlook. The door parted to a code you sent to #2220 on your phone. The year was 2220. Last year, people sent codes to #2219. Before last year, it was to #2218. The interior of the museum reeked of antiquity. You wandered into every corner of the building, finding it hard to appease your curiosity.
“Welcome to this place of profound history and story.” A woman, the guide, offered to help you.
You walked into a small, wooden partition. An hourglass hung in the air. A chain held it to the roof. A strip of paper glued to the top bulb read “Petrol.”
You wiped imaginary dust off your glasses and allowed it to fall freely, held around your neck by a thin cord.
You asked with a mix of ecstasy and surprise, “Ma, is this petrol?”
You moved closer to the hourglass and caressed it with bare palms.
“Do you know vehicles ran on this thing till late 2070?”
You nodded in affirmation.
She continued, “In fact, after the oil reserves dried in the middle east and U.S., a pocket of cars still ran on it in Nigeria before the last wells dried up in Oloibiri.”
“My father told me. He tells me every morning when I help him hold the funnel to the car’s tank as he fills it with water how much the world has evolved.”
He’s fond of saying, “The world now runs on water. Everything that has engine is now powered by water. Well water. River water. Tap water. Rainwater. Ordinary water.”
readie.readie
“Three, two, One!.” His chest rose like a metallic body seemingly drawn up by a huge pair of magnets that had just sent jolts to his heart. I said a prayer. I believed in no gods, but surely one of them must be hearing me in this instance. A simple mental crossing of myself, asking divine help.
“Still no response, Doc!”.
He’s dying, I was certain. It was like a dull knowledge, something you knew, like the black and white stripes on an animal to mean Zebra. The explosion had been loud, and when the smoke had cleared I had seen him—left leg shaking vigorously under a large slab that had crushed his right upper body to the ground; his right arm, a boneless pulp of flesh. His uniform, bloodied.
“300 volts. Again!.”
The frantic yell of the medic in his blood-stained blue interrupted my thinking rudely. He was young this one, lucky as hell, giving orders like he knew what it meant fight at war. I imagined his bowels splayed on the streets, a glorious image for the terrorists. I stepped out of the room, hand on my back, led out by a medic, the acrid smell of blood, sweat, antiseptic and medicines hit me. Who ever knew that polished humans could smell so horribly, wailing like crazed animals. I reached the bathroom stalls, vomiting any food left in me, not caring once to aim into the sink.
I could hear whispers, ” The future is ghastly, my child. Act, you must”.
My eyes opened. I was back at the shaman’s house, sweating, no longer the young man with bloodshot eyes, holding a rifle, grieving a dying brother. I ran out, teary-eyed, never stopping once to think where I was going, hurrying along to change the future.
#camaawriteupchallenge #camaawriteupchallengefervid. @camaa_pearl
derinwrites
Title: Untimely dreams
The book I was reading was constantly making me more inquisitive about what was coming next.
“What? Oh my goodness!” I simultaneously thought aloud in excitement.
I was approaching the climax of the book when I heard someone yell my name.
“Mariam! Mariam!” It was mother; I knew what I had to do.
I got up from my bed and hurriedly put away the book I was reading.
“It’s nothing, mother” I said when she asked what I was hiding.
So, that was the life I had; one filled with abominations and rules that never favoured the education of a girl child.
Apparently, it was a taboo for a woman to be anything good or rather, anything better than a man.
Unfortunately for my family, I had a passion to be an educator; to empower young bright female minds like mine and to show the world that its superpower was in the female form.
A female child was only educated to the primary level but if she was as lucky as I was, to the secondary level.
I would pray every single day that God would take me to a better place, universe or even a better time would work. The prayer was never answered or maybe God wanted things to be this way.
That morning, I found myself in a strange house still contained with my family but the females spoke like elites. In fact, family devotion sounded more brilliant than usual.
I later discovered I was in the year 2019; a century from my real home! What?
“Mariam!” Siri; my sister called out. “Let’s go and cook breakfast”
Oh right, I was in a trance. This life right here was my reality.
#camaawriteupchallenge #camaawriteupchallengefervid @camaa_pearl
richardmuriana
I know how it would feel, I do. Trust me. I’m aware with a lustrously keen memory how razor blades make their acerbic entry into skins, into my skin. I know of their relationship with the wickedness of my grandmother’s hands, and her desire to correct my stubbornness. My parents had brought me here because they couldn’t handle my addiction, knowing how strict and imposing granny’s authority was.
Last month, Osazee died and since then the cuts have been deeper.
Osazee is cute, he lives alone and he’s my only lover now, my obsession. He is the most skilled lover I know. I had gotten rid of all my other lovers since I met him. They were amateurs. Though, I’d miss Jim who gives me paranormal novels and write poems in my name.
Granny was a witch doctor and she has made me an acolyte of some sort to distract my wanderings and subdue my insolence. I know that she kept human skulls of different sizes behind the curtain of her shrine, I know she gives her customers different potent charms for evil deeds and most importantly I’m aware of her ability to travel to whenever, with an old clock.
Following the death of Osazee in an auto-crash I had tried to undo the tragedy with granny’s clock but couldn’t, so, I settled for our precious time together, going back to time repeatedly, with every little chance I got, to have him make love to me.
However, one week ago, granny caught me, gave me the first deepest cut and a warning which I ignored. Then there was a second warning, cut and a threat to lock me in a room till I behave and now I’m thinking of ways I can kill her, so I could forever be with Osazee. Any ideas?
jeoffreyduke
AWAKE:
The alarm vibrated the table on which Jake’s head was awkwardly wedged.
“It’s six already?” Jake moaned rhetorically.
It wasn’t until a moment later that it struck him.
“Oh! It’s my wedding day!” He jumped.
Jake was getting married to his long-time lover and girlfriend: Monica.
About four hours later, Mike; Jake’s best friend, who was supposed to be the best-man still hadn’t arrived. Mike was a very rich entrepreneur in a leading technological company. And today he was testing his ‘time-travel’ machine, which meant he was definitely going to be late.
Two hours later, Mike still hadn’t reached, so they went on without him.
“Do you take this man as your husband?” The priest asked.
“Yes, I…”
A glitch distorted the visual. Suddenly everything began to whirl.
Jake woke up; he was in an oval tub filled with a sticky gelatinous substance.
“Finally!” An AI asserted.
The tub drained and opened.
“Where am I?”
“June, 2073” the AI answered.
“What?”
“You were trapped in a time-loop.”
“What time-loop?”
“There were several nuclear explosions on your wedding day. Most people died. Your friend Mike pulled you out of the wreckage and brought you here. The machine was slightly damaged by the explosion, but he still put you in and started it up. But, you just got stuck in a time-loop: one of your wedding.”
“What the hell?” Jake gaped. “Where’s Mike then?”
“Jake, you’ve been stuck in a loop for over 50 years. The entire human race has been wiped out by radiation. You are the only human alive.”
Jake couldn’t handle the shock, he walked up to the transparent window and looked. There was no sign of life. Only the moon.
“Isn’t it amazing? Although there is no sign of life, the moon still shines.” The Al remarked.
*************************************************
Thanks for the opportunity @camaa_pearl
vickteur7
LA LA Land
She enjoys singing? Well, so do I…
He sat in his usual spot in class. This was a vantage point where he could catch an eyeful of the ladies as they walk into the classroom. It took conscious effort for him to contain his thoughts from bursting out of his warped mind. He earned this sitting position. He fought for it even. The fight between him and one of the biggest boys in the class ended with the big boy on the floor, and he the victorious champion. It so happened that the big boy caught a episode of epilepsy and collapsed at the same moment he threw a swing of a punch. There was no contact, no blistered knuckles, but there was sweet victory. The kind that earned him a peck on the chin from the most beautiful girl in the class. That was when she became his!
As she came into the classroom, the glance they shared, even for a split second, triggered an electric wave of sensual euphoria. He shuddered to keep himself in control, and waited till she sat down. But he needed to get close to her – if he could catch a whiff of her fragrance. So he stood up and took the longest route to get to her isle, and then slowly walked towards her. The class was filled with activity and rowdy, but he did not care. It was as if there was a snap and everyone else melted and in turn, her image became accentuated in spotless wonder. Slowly he walked until he was beside her. And he heard the beautiful sound from her lips. She could sing…
“Donatus!” a voice from a distant land called out. Then a slap. And he was awake! Mum wants him to wash the dishes.
Victor Adakole
