Strange encounter 13&14

Strangereencounter

#EPISODETHIRTEEN & Fourteen

My wife’s kiss will save me_ 🤭 Revolution 😑.

“It feels the same. Since I set my eyes on you, I could not contain the shock. You looked so much like my husband”. She cried out to him.

“Do you have a picture of him on your phone?”.

“I have countless pictures of my husband”. She revealed to him all the pictures on her phone gallery and he gasped at the sight of them.

“He looks so much like me. Just the nose and cheekbone is different. Are you sure that we are not related maybe somehow?”.

She giggled. “You guys are not related”.

He grabbed her hand and held it in his. “Holding your hand like this gives me so much joy”.

She gasped. “Why?”.

“I don’t know. Can we take a walk?”.

“This night? It is too late”.

“This is 3:45am. Everywhere will be silent and private”.

She reluctantly followed him out of the house.

They walked along the road in silence.

His hand felt like Tyler’s.

So masculine and protective.

He pulled off her gripse and gasped at her as they walked on. “Have we held hands before?”.

“Not at all”.

“Why does it feel so familiar?”.

He held her hand again and it replayed in his head.

….. the exact action of him holding her hand just that way.

He turned to her again. “Your hand feels so familiar and the action of holding your hand just like this feels like I have held your hand before”.

She was getting so confused. “What are you talking about?”.

He wanted to get his mind off the wierd action that was replaying in his head for no reason. “Can we play a game?”.

“What game?”.

“Whoever runs back to the house faster will buy dinner for the other person. What do you think?”.

She always played the race game with Tyler when he was alive.

The more the memories this young man was trying to build with her, the more she longed for Tyler.

….but since he insisted on the race game, she could just do it.

If this man has the exact running composure with Tyler as they begin their race, she would be convinced that Tyler’s spirit was living inside of him.

Just as she had predicted, he had the same running composure with Tyler.

Just the exact way that Tyler had done, he jogged and jumped until he was ahead of her.

She was so overwhelmed at his exact running composure like that of her deceased husband that she did not even notice the big stone that was lying in front of her.

The stone threw her off balance and she landed heavily on the floor…

….leaving a red bruise on her left knee.

She winced and sat on the floor.

He rushed to her and held out her leg to observe the wound.

That was the exact thing that had happened the first time she had met Tyler.

They had met at Yaba jogging route as they had both come for the jogging exercise that fateful Saturday morning.

She had tripped over a big stone when they began the race with the crowd.

He was the first person to reach out to her among all the men and he had squatted and held out her small leg to his face possessively.

Just that exact way that he was doing it that moment.

As he held out her leg, he winced and held his head. “My head..it hurts. I t hurts so much”. He fainted right there on the floor beside her bruised knee.

#fromyourfastfingers

Onyekachi Ikeh

#EPISODEFOURTEEN

My wife’s kiss will save me_ 🤭 Revolution 😑.

“You wore the red and white arsenal club outfit and a black socks with white sneakers and then I was squatting and treating your wound with my first aid”. He narrated to her immediately he woke up on the sickbed.

That was the exact outfit she was wearing the first time they ever met over ten years ago and that was the exact thing that had happened that day.

Since Tyler was a medical doctor, he always carried first aid treatment in his bag wherever he met.

It was almost eleven years ago and her boss had narrated everything just now like it had happened yesterday.

“I have met you before along that road. You were a teenager and looking very innocent”.

She sobbed. If he had the memory of her husband, how then was he the son of the Corncells?

Why did everything feel so confusing?

“Have you treated your wound?’. He opened his eyes and looked worriedly at her.

“Yes. The nurses helped me with it”.

“You called the ambulance to get me here immediately I fainted rght?”.

She nodded.

“I thought you carried me on your shoulder to this place”.. There was humour in his eyes and they broke into laughter.

He held her hand and stared softly at her. “I am totally convinced that I have met you before, Naomi and I will find that out myself”.

“Do you mean that the chinese people made sure they defeated those blacks that disguised themselves in Hong Kong?”. Raymond asked again as he swallowed the last spoonful of soup from Mrs Smith plate.

“Yes, my son. Those Chinese people look very foolish but are way too intelligent. The whites are brilliant in their discoveries but the Chinese are not only brilliant but also very good psychologists”.

He nodded. “Mrs Smith, are you insinuating that you formulate all these stories yourself?”.

She shrugged and giggled. “For the past two weeks, all the stories that I have been telling you have just been built from my imaginations”.

“Why didn’t you become a writer, just like Chimamanda, Buchi Emecheta and the rest?

“Not every good story teller is a good writer. Even good writers don’t become professionals in a day. They are thoroughly criticized until they are professionals”.

” Every good writer started as a storyteller. Every good story teller can make a professional writer if properly trained. You look like you are scared of criticism”

“Every writer will always be criticized by professionals because those professionals have criticized the literary work of even very trained people”.

“No, you are scared of criticism from your readers. You are scared that your storylines might not be good enough to catch their attention” .

She gasped at him. He was the first person to know what had been on her mind all these while for the past thirty years.

She sighed. “My father could only train me up to my secondary school level. Though I did NCE, but I never believed in myself when it comes to writing. What if no one buys my book? What if nobody likes my story? All these questions kept crawling up in my head. It takes courage to show the world the result of your imaginations”. She felt so excited that at least something meaningful was coming out of the mouth of the drug addict.

“Are you up to fifty years old?”. He asked her.

“I am forty nine years old”.

“You still have long years ahead of you. You can do this, Mrs Smith. Write your first book. I promise to sponsor you with all I have”.

“All you have? Do you have money to sponsor me?”.

“I am the CEO of Corncells company”.

#fromyourfastfingers