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From Home To Rendezvous #7

That night, Martha did not sleep at home. She had some money to lodge in a hotel for two nights and she did. Uchenna would come looking for her at her place and seeing his face could make her die of something she did not know yet – hatred, disappointment, anger, a dose of love, disappointment or all of the above. Two days are enough to get over him in solitude. She locked the door and gulped alcohol like a horse. It burned and she winched, feeling the annoyance in her head replaced by hotness. She crawled like a cat on the cold floor and waited for sleep like a widow waiting for her deceased husband, her vision blurred, her body cold, but she wouldn’t stand from the floor or wore something better than the gown she wore to his place. She laid on her side, her head over her…

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