I know she loves me the same way i love her, he thought while stealing a glance at her. But him on the other hand unlike her, loves me in a different way-tough love! I think he cares and adores me though he pretends not to; i have seen the look of concern on his face every time I make a slight, unusual sound.
He felt her intangible, hair raising, bed sheet ruffling, air cutting presence for the second time that night. Continue reading
Ultimately amid all the sadness and sulking and the deeply unnerving, very upsetting irritability of an irrational situation, he had to let her go.
“I am in love with the wind.” She had explained. Continue reading
“Nyokabi,” Kimathi said. “I am a tad worried about something.”
“Your prudish behavior?”
“No,” he explained. “It’s the utter absurdness of trying, unfavorably so, to cross reference my dreams with reality.” Continue reading
Once upon a fireplace in a brick house at the end of the street where a crow, black as a mid October night, always perched on the picket fence, Marilyn Monroe came to back to life. Continue reading
It was the first in a long time when the boys got to hang out together; the Shaka Gang, they used to call themselves. That was back when they had just cleared campus. Continue reading
Her life was blissful because he added a sparkle to it, ever so subtly, ever so lovingly in a forever-and-ever blissful kind of way. Continue reading