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The Scratch On Your Shoulder #13

“So, why did you ghost me?” Nero’s question was a right one at the wrong time. Cheta wished he had waited until much later to ask her. Not now when her parents were having a row in the next room over her love life. She wanted to be as calm as he was, but she couldn’t stop thinking about what was to come after this moment. Her plan to shock her father had not worked out as she had wanted it to go. Her mother had gone ahead of her and told him about Nero while she was still outside the reception venue, taking selfies with Nero. When the old man came out and stood at the top of the stairs, observing them, Nero saw him before Cheta did. He nudged her and she looked up, locking eyes with Julius. Nnedinma stepped out next, guilt on her face. “Meet me…

The Scratch On Your Shoulder #11

Having just put her granddaughters to bed, after two annoying hours of struggling with them, Hadiza craved for a glass of wine and a pill to drive away the pain in her back. She also desired to have her feet massaged. Kadiri used to be so good at it, but she had recently began to drift away from him. This wasn’t intentional. Her life as a person living in the shadows, where she had needed him the most, was ending. Yet her feelings for him persisted. He meant a lot to her, still. “Is there anything you want me to do for you?” he asked as she entered the kitchen to pour herself some wine. He had just fixed a broken knob on the gas cooker. “I’m fine. You should rest. It’s been a long day.” She got lost in the notched movements of his muscled arms as she watched…

The Scratch On Your Shoulder #7

Laja was in bed with her this morning. She was dreaming about him, about the time she came back to Nigeria after being away for six years. He was waiting at the airport, holding a placard that had her name on it. She laughed when she saw him and asked if he was crazy. “Just in case you’ve forgotten me and I don’t recognize you.” “I can never forget you, Large.” Lying in her bed this morning, she felt guilty for not keeping him to memory, as she ought to have done. She had had a chaotic workweek and a weekend that wasn’t any better. It was now Thursday, and she was finally getting the chance to take an entire day off. Yet, she had gotten up early, as it was her habit. She felt it was best to stay in bed and speak to Laja. “You can never forget…

The Scratch On Your Shoulder #6

Cheta’s visit to Ransome’s house had been a bootless errand. In three hours, she was back home, cussing herself for being vulnerable in front of a man and swearing that it would never happen again. The house was quiet when she got in. She peeped into the living room and kitchen but didn’t find anyone. Quietly, she went up the stairs. She dropped her overnight bag in her bedroom and stopped at Obi’s door. She heard him talking to someone as she knocked. He came to the door seconds later, taking his phone away from his ear. He had been on a call. “You’re back,” he muttered. “Yeah.” She stared at the mess that was his bedroom. “Everything okay?” “Yup.” “Good. Clean your room before breakfast tomorrow. And please, let in some fresh air…” “He called.” “Who?” “Dad.” “He called? Why?” “Said you weren’t picking your phone. Said you should…

The Scratch On Your Shoulder #5

Her thoughts were not fully with him this evening. They were somewhere in Abuja, with Cheta. They had been there all day, as were her emotions. Her friend was mad at her, and understandably so. She had been incalculably stupid today. “What’s wrong?” Basim was looking at her through the etched mirror that was above his dressing table where she was seated. He moved closer and rested his chin on her shoulder. She loved his scent this evening. It was masculine and had that superior musk oil he sometimes used, with its unusual sexual magnetism that drove her wild. But she didn’t want him tonight. She thought it would be better if she went home. “I’m good,” Gold responded to his question. She picked her phone from the table and moved her body, making him lift his frame off her shoulder. “I have to go home.” “Any reason you’re moody?”…

The Scratch On Your Shoulder #3

Read previous episodes of The Scratch on Your Shoulder It felt like he was going on a date with her for the first time. He was nervous, and he must have taken more than a thousand steps in his living room as he walked in circles, rehearsing the words he would say to her. “Why are you talking to yourself?” He stopped moving, just realizing that his six-year-old granddaughter was in the room with him. She was seated on the floor, legs crossed, elbows resting on her knees as round eyes stared up at him in curiosity. She was Fajr’s daughter. Fajr had become his favorite child after his marriage to Hadiza crashed, for the reason that she had been the most hit by the divorce and had chosen to stay with and comfort him. Basim, and the lastborn, Hajara, had not cared as much as Fajr did. Fajr had…

The Scratch On Your Shoulder #2

Read the previous episode of The Scratch On Your Shoulder here Nero hated funerals. They were all the same to him. Slow and depressing.  Just like this one. Almost everyone had something to say about the person who had passed away; even though he had made it known repeatedly that he didn’t want anybody washing him with head-swelling words. “Dance in remembrance of me. Meet new people. Eat, drink, and get drunk. Then have one-night stands. All on me!” The video was out there on Twitter. It had over a million views and was massively shared on Facebook and Instagram too. Yet, people showed up for the occasion with long faces and saggy shoulders.  “Who are all these people for fuck’s sake?” Nero asked his fiancée, Joy, who was standing beside him. She hushed him. So, he chose to stare at the coffin, instead. It was black, perfectly furnished. Nero…

Where To Find Breasts #34

Read previous episodes of Where To Find Breasts This episode of Where To Find Breasts is dedicated to Oluwakemi Obilade. Happy birthday in arrears! Kyenpia was up before Leonel. He would usually stir at exactly 4:30 a.m. each morning, and she, an hour later. But she hadn’t had a good sleep in three days. Somewhere in Boston, Ishi lay on a hospital bed in an intensive care unit. It didn’t feel right to her that he was there; he had been through so much already. His surgery had gone well but recovery was slow. This drove Kyenpia crazy, and it showed. Her body was terrible at keeping secrets. First, it was the rapid weight loss, then the anxiety attacks that she tried to hide, and now the sleeplessness. Leonel was beginning to ask questions. This was in addition to the passive-aggressiveness he had displayed for five days. “Do we need…

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