His Piece (Pt 2)


She managed to slip past the guards undetected. The past two years of training always came in handy in situations like this. She knocked on the door and waited with bated breath on his permission to enter. “Yeah, come in… did you see them, Ken? I swear I saw Yangley’s eyes in the back of the room.” “They were my eyes. Are my eyes.” He turned at leisure. He did that so he could even out his breathing without her knowing it had become uneven. “How did you find me?” “You still have your victim’s complex, you know?” she asked as she slowly closed the door behind her. “Yang, what do you want from me?” Shaking her head, she cooed, “You forgot to tell them about the days Jin spaced out on Yang. The days Jin would snap at Yang for no reason and blame it on something or other…

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His Piece (Pt 1)


The host announced that Mun would be gracing the stage next. As was normal before his performances, the stool and mic stand were placed in a straight line in the centre of the stage. He would only change that arrangement the day he saw amber eyes in the crowd. He doubted he ever would.
They clapped as he approached his seat. He fist-bumped his best friend and guitarist Ken, and sat. A sensual hush fell over the place as the lights hit his skin. He calmed himself, and began to speak, his deep timbre that made ladies swoon and imagine, the kind that inspired thought and consideration in the men resonating in the slightly weed-scented air.
“Today Imma tell y’all a story. Not the happy kind with a boy and a girl who fell in love and had a happy ending. I wouldn’t be real if I told you that…

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S for Secret Admirer

The Ink Magician's Blog

If I hadn’t been looking her way, I wouldn’t have noticed. But I was; and I did. She was writing furiously on her answer sheet, her face barely inches away from the paper. Intense. That’s the word I’d use to describe her. Well, and my feelings for her. Every now and then, she’d look towards the floor for a brief moment, and then resume writing furiously. I caught on quickly. She was copying answers from something. I smiled. It was funny because she was the girl’s prefect and she had just finished advising us (during the school’s morning devotion) on cheating during examinations.

I wrote briefly in my answer booklet and shifted my focus back her. She was still looking down and writing. Maybe the pressures on her were too much. She had a lot to prove after all. These teachers (and the students also) always expected the best from the people…

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His Story.

Don’t read. I tell you. Don’t . Especially if you’re an emotional being like me. You’ll just cry and ruin your day then. Your eyes would just get puffy and you wouldn’t want to see anyone. Then you’ll just turn the world out with music in.

But if you insist…alright..

They said he was this, that. The girl he was crushing on called him a worthless, hopeless fool .He had no family. An orphan who’d found himself at the wrong side of the tracks .All he needed was that mouth to spank him and loving eyes to watch him . Yet none minded him, following the adage “each one for himself God for us all”.

The scorn and rejection fueled his vices. And as the clock ticked monies got missing from safes and cars were stolen. Juvenile homes were his favorite place because at least the people there showed some form of emotion .

And he wished he could inflict pain on those so-called town leaders whose closets held so many skeletons and were so corrupt their perfumes reeked of it yet they judged him. 

From afar that fine fine fine fine lady saw deep within. She was quite eccentric and well, they said that was her gift so she took him on. Nineteen wasn’t too late an age. He learnt all that wasn’t taught in those numerous orphanages and in her home he learnt to belong.  

She wasn’t that old but he called her “babushka”  

In no time he began to behave appropriately. He continued school and thankfully graduated. She called him a fully grown independent man . Gone were the days of being a rascal. But the scars from his past still burned and he lusted for revenge .Vengeance lead him on . He had not but one aim in life.

In due time he got married ,oh his wife was beautiful. One to die for. Theirs was a re-enactment of “beauty and the beast ” but “ohmigosh” their children were just so adorable.

I guess you’re still reading ? okay. So erm.. do you by chance like coke ?

La douleur exquise.

The sun’s smile from the center wasn’t so bright.

He knelt before her with a look so penetrating and filled with agony asking for forgiveness. He wished she would say something , Just open her lips if only to utter words that’ll bring respite..

A glance was all she needed. For the sadness dissipated and the love came rushing like a tidal wave.She wanted to tell him it was okay but words to him no longer fit right in her mouth. All the phrases she could have danced with..and his lips would never be able to reply the words she wouldn’t say.

Then he hugged her so tight, the last of many ; a memory no one could steal , hoping the pain she felt would be his .And she smiled, real love brought pain .

Her smile would forever be imprinted upon his heart.

So the skies cried .Cried for those filled with grief as they let each other go.