Unfiltered Work: The Galaxies in Her Eyes (Blogtober Day 10)

The streets was her home, but she had dream that was too heavy for the universe to carry.

“I will be a writer one day”, she told me, showing me a list of dreams in very bad handwriting. “I will write of the people walking on the street, wearing suits but struggling to live.”

“I will write of the rich looking man well dressed in expensive clothes but suffering from hypertension and diabetes. I will tell my readers never to envy them.”

I watched her eyes sparkle as she watches people pass by. All she had was her little luggage. Life was hard for her at the moment but she knew things will get better.

“Will you write about your eyes, the way they always sparkle when you are excited? The galaxies in her eyes?”

She paused, then shook her head.

“No,” she said, then swallowed hard. “I won’t do that.”

“Why not?” I asked, shocked at her answer.

She looked into my eyes. I was blinded by her galaxies. “Because no one would like to read the story of a girl living in the streets. They all know the struggles of a girl living on the streets. But they don’t know the struggles of a man living the life.”

Walking Library (Blogtober Day 3)

She was a library. A novel maniac. All her inside curls up when she sees new novels in stores or when they are displayed on a shelf that has Reduced to Clear signs on top of them. Her heart beats a rhythm not yet known to the world, and her mind goes on a trip to wonderland.

The beauty of the display, the smell of books, the atmosphere of a bookstore. She could live in bookstores forever. She sees stories floating in the air, calling her to come over and make friends with the characters, or visit unknown locations. She eats novels, drinks novels, sleep on bookshelves, but do not bring novels out as waste, which is the only most pathetic part of her life.

“Reading novels is the cheapest way to travel”, she always says. Whoever she is quoting, I disagree.

She makes friends with the characters and understands them. She cries with them, laughs with them. See goose pimples on her, and we all know that, she has read a kissing scene. She fell in love with a character once, we felt scared for her. We all thought, she would not go back to normal. She even told us of a dream where they met and went on romantic dates. A few days later, we gave her another novel and she forgot all about her fictional lover.

But we regretted doing that. She hated the villain so much, she tore the book into two. We became more terrified than the moment when she fell in love with a character.

She would cry when the protagonist was in serious pain or was heartbroken. Her appetite would betray her and she would voluntarily fast, but this time, without a religious or health purpose.

I always felt she was supposed to be in a novel. A fictional character who is hopelessly romantic but a loner, just like Charlie Chaplin. I always felt, she did not belong to this world, but in a pen, yet to be poured out in a book, to be published and make another reader cry, laugh and dance with her.

“Would you like to be a writer, Awo?” I once asked her. She stared at me for a moment, then laughed. Laughed so hard, I felt foolish and just laughed with her.

“There’s no need,” she finally said, after having a plate of laughter and a glass of tears. “There are no more stories again. I’ve read a zillion novels, baby, and almost a quarter of them have the same plot, but with different settings and different character names. There’s no new place to travel to. Just visiting the same life but meeting new people, you know.”

And for once in my life, I totally agreed with her. Just living the same life, but making new friends.

I never had a problem with Awo. I liked her, because she was the weirdest person I have ever met in my life. She narrates to you the stories she had read for free. You do not need to buy novels if she is your friend. She’s also the cheapest bookstore I have ever known.

p.s. Don't forget to vote. Text MBA MARIETTA to 1736. Thanks😚😚😚

Bedtime Stories: Jesus Comes For His Birthday Part 2

Welcome to the part two of the children’s Christmas story; Jesus Comes For His Birthday. If you missed part one, you can read it here.

Jesus Comes For His Birthday Part 2

The next morning, she headed to Michelle’s house. After ringing the bell at the gate twice, a woman appeared at the gate.

“Good morning, Ma,” she said, stroking the little present she held in her hands. “Is Michelle home?”

“Yes. Come in.”

She entered and saw Michelle sitting on the sofa watching a Christmas cartoon with some of her classmates. Michelle stood up as soon as she saw Adoma at the door.

“Adoma?”

“Hi.” Adoma reluctantly greeted.

“Umm, hi,” Michelle responded nervously. She felt bad after accusing Adoma falsely for taking her ribbon. She avoided eye contact with Adoma. “What are you doing here?”

“Ermm….I came to give you a Christmas gift and say Merry Christmas,” she said.

Michelle’s face lit up. “Really? For me?”

Adoma nodded and handed it over to her. “Here.”

“Well, thank you,” she quickly opened it and it was a box of ribbons of all kinds…..even her favourite, a butterfly ribbon. One she always wanted.

“Wow, thank you,” Michelle said with excitement and hugged her. “I’m sorry I called you a thief,” she said in a low tone.

“It’s all right. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Adoma.” They broke free and she said. “Come and join us and watch the Christmas Cartoon we just got. We have sobolo here too.”

“Okay.”  Adoma went to sit with her other classmates and they ended up talking about other girly related things.

_______________________________________________________________________________

On Christmas Eve, after Mr. Bekoe donated the box pf stuff to the orphanage, they went for their church’s Nine Lessons and Carols festival. Adoma and her siblings enjoyed the carols they sang. After, Adoma went to say hi to her friends, giving each of them a hug, and wishing them a Merry Christmas.

On Christmas morning, she quickly got up and wet round about the house to wake her parents and siblings up. “Come on, wake up, it’s Christmas! Come on!” she exclaimed and ran to the Christmas tree in her pajamas.

“Wow!” So many presents were under the tree. She couldn’t wait to open hers. “You guys, hurry up.”

When the family gathered in the living room, Adoma began to search for hers. “Kuukua! Here’s yours,” she handed her a big box with her name on it. “Nana Kwadwo, yours is that big green box over there. Mama look! Your name is on it. I’ve found mine!” Kwame and dad’s own must be at the other side.”

Adoma began to open the one she found and it was also ribbons with a note in it. “Wow! Mama, look! It’s from Michelle.”

“That’s wonderful, Adoma,” Mrs Bekoe smiled. Adoma found more presents under the tree and opened them. Everyone was happy with what they each got.

After they had Christmas dinner, Adoma walked to her mother, helping her to wash the dishes with Kuukua.

“Mama, how can you be sure that Jesus Christ really visited?” she asked, hoping that she was not losing faith.

“Adoma, you know, Jesus Christ even visited you before today. You became friends again with Michelle, that’s one way of Jesus visiting you because, in a way, you reconciled with him. Donating stuffs to the little orphanage, you gave him gifts. Hugging your friends after carol service, you told him happy birthday and He is here right now.”

Adoma closed her eyes for a moment. “Yes. I can feel Him and He was with me all the time.” She beamed at her mother. “Jesus visited us this Christmas. I hoped he liked his birthday. I hoped He enjoyed it.”

“He did and He loved it,” Kuukua said. All this while, she was secretly listened to their conversation, though she behaved like she cared less.

“Really?”

Kuukua nodded with a smile. “Yes. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” Adoma and Mrs. Bekoe said and hugged Kuukua together. It was a sacred mother and daughter moment.

“Sweet girl hug,” Mr. Bekoe said, standing at the door. Mrs. Bekoe walked towards him and gave him a hug. “Merry Christmas, honey.” He kissed her cheek which made her smile. Nana Kwadwo and Kwame, together with Kuukua and Adoma joined the hug and it was no, sweet girl hug. It was a sweet family hug. Adoma even frlt Jesus joining the hug circle.

As Adoma climed her bed, she took the picture she drew of her and Jesus under the pillow and smiled. “Happy birthday, Jesus and Merry Christmas. Hope you enjoyed it. Good night,” she kissed it and put it under her pillow. She pulled her covers to her chin and closed her eyes. She felt Jesus say, “I loved it, Adoma. Thank you very much.” Adoma smiled in her sleep.

Thank you very much for reading this symbolism story. I hope you enjoyed and I hope they enjoyed it.

Check back on the blog tomorrow for another blogmas post.

Good night.

Bedtime Stories: Jesus Comes For His Birthday

I wrote this children’s story a long time ago. I do not know what inspired me to write it, but I had fun writing in symbolism. I wrote this for children between the ages of seven and twelve. If you know any child around you around that is between those ages, you can let him/her read it, or you can read it to them at bedtime.

Have fun with this literary Christmas story.

Jesus Comes For His Birthday

“Mama! Very soon, it would be Christmas again,” Adoma said with excitement. “We have to decorate our home so that Jesus would come again!”

Mrs. Bekoe smiled. “Yes, Adoma. Have you been good this year?”

“Yes! I can be sure of this one.”

Adoma was a nine year old girl who has obsession for Christmas, because of the decorations, carols and the most important of all, the birth of Jesus Christ.

That year, she promised herself to be good the whole year so that Jesus would be happy to spend time with her when he visited.

Her father came in, from town with Adoma’s three older siblings, with newly bought Christmas ornaments and a Christmas tree. She quickly ran down and was filled with the Christmas Spirit all at once.

“Daddy, when do we start trimming the tree?”

Mr. Bekoe thought for a moment. “Hmm. What about after supper tonight.”

“Yay!” She exclaimed. “I’ll get to put up the star this year.”

Kwadwo, her older brother, rolled his eyes. “You always do.”

“I don’t even care.” Kuukua snarled. “When you grow a little older……and matured, you’ll find that to be childish.”

“No, I won’t!” Adoma barked.

“Okay! Enough with the arguing!” Mr. Bekoe warned. “You guys shouldn’t be doing that.”

Adoma stuck her tongue out at Kwadwo and Kuukua and walked over to where the newly bought ornaments were kept.

“You guys are home?” Mrs. Bekoe asked, poking her head from the kitchen door.

“Yep!” Mr. Bekoe answered with a smile. “This Christmas, the malls are mobbed than ever.”

Mrs. Bekoe laughed heartily. “I have to go tomorrow and purchase foodstuffs for the holidays. I’ll have to go earlier than I thought to avoid traffic.”

“Mama, look! Figures of those in the manger!” Adoma jabbered. “Mary looks beautiful.”

“She is”, Mrs. Bekoe said, shaking the excess water of her hands and walked into the sitting room to check out the ornaments and the tree. “When do we start with the decorating?”

“Right after supper!” Adoma yelled with excitement.

“Whoa!”

“Can we have supper earlier today, Ma?”

Mrs. Bekoe laughed. “Anything for you, baby.”

“So, what about supper right now?” she asked.

There was silence. Nana Kwame, Adoma’s other brother checked their clock and it was past 1pm. 

“Oh come on, we haven’t even had lunch yet.”

They all laughed. “Patience moves mountains, Adoma.” Mrs. Bekoe said, and laughed again. Mrs. Bekoe liked to laugh heartedly. People would say that’s her hobby.

Adoma spent her afternoon, drawing funny pictures of Christmas. She even drew a picture of her and Jesus and wrote Me and Jesus under it.

She frowned. She remembered she had a grouch with a classmate of hers. They weren’t friends anymore because she accused Adoma of stealing her flowery ribbon.

Would Jesus still visit even though she’s not in talking terms with Michelle, her classmate?

Definitely.

Definitely not!

She just needed to find out.

_________________________________________________________________________________

Just before supper, when Adoma helped her mother set the table, she narrated her grouch story with her mother.

“Adoma, you have to make up with her as soon as possible,’ Mrs. Bekoe softly told her as she placed a spoon beside the plate.

“But Mama, I did not steal her ribbon!” she blurted out. “And what if she doesn’t want to talk to me?”

Mrs. Bekoe sighed. “Come, Adoma.” Adoma walked towards her mother as Mrs. Bekoe sat on the dinning chair. “You know, Jesus Christ did not come down from Heaven to die for only sinners. 

That’s why we sing Joy to the World, the Lord is come. We don’t sing Joy to Sinners, the Lord came for you or whatever.”

Adoma’s lower lip dropped and she sighed. “So, what should I do?”

Since school is on Christmas break, why don’t you visit her tomorrow? And if she still doesn’t want to talk to you, you’ve done your part.”

She nodded and smiled. “Okay, she threw her arms around her mother and hugged her. Then she broke free. “Let’s set the table, eat, and then trim the tree.”

Her mother giggled as her daughter pulled her from the chair.

_________________________________________________________________________________

After supper, the family trimmed the tree with the ornaments with music, playing behind Christmas music.

“Does anyone have anything he would like to donate before Christmas?” Mr. Bekoe asked his family, who were all watching the Christmas lights on the tree blinking.

“Yes. Yep!” went the responses.

“There’s a box in the kitchen. Just drop them into it, and make sure it’s full before Christmas Eve.”

“When do I get to put the star?” Adoma asked.

“You know it’s Christmas Eve,” Kwadwo said exasperatedly.

Adoma jumped up from the sofa and took some tinsels. “Time to decorate my room also.” She picked up more ornaments and walked to her room. First, she pasted the funny Christmas pictures she drew earlier in the day on her walls. She went on to use the tinsels around her room. She drew out a Christmas tree out of a green cardboard, cut out the shape, and pinned it on her wall.

An hour later, she was sitting on her, finished decorating, getting ready for Jesus Christ.

But there was one thing she had to do before Jesus could come.

Reconcile with Michelle.

Even the song Hark the Herald Angel Sing said God and sinners reconciled.

She stood up and looked for stuffs she wanted to donate; some clothes, books and toys. She took a piece of plain A4 sheet and drew a Christmas tree with ornaments. She wrote To whoever who wants it….Merry Christmas. She folded it nicely, put it into an envelope and sealed it.

Would Adoma get the courage to go and make up with Michelle? Would Michelle even talk to her? Would Jesus Christ even visit?

Check back on the blog tomorrow at this time to read the second part of the story.

Tell the little girl/boy to wait.

FLASH FICTION: SNOOZE

I submitted this flash fiction to a publication about two years ago, and it was rejected. So I decided to publish it here. As for my blog, nothing gets rejected. I have all power here. Lolz xx.

Don’t really mind me. *wink*wink*

SNOOZE

Alarm goes off at 5am sharp. She hated that sound. Where did the 8 hours of sleep run to? But if it was Public Administration class, time would just decide to go slow. She stretched out her arm and fumbled around for where she thought the snooze button was on her phone. Her class doesn’t start till 7:30am anyway.

The alarm silences and she left out a sigh of relief. Ah, more sleep. She allowed her heavy lids drift shut for a few more minutes. Just a few more minutes, she promised herself.

She was having the best dream ever and she wouldn’t let Calculus class ruin it. Calculus! The course she feared. Well, she’s doing something about it. Having study groups and seeking assistance from the cutest most intelligent boy in class, so what there’s to worry?

Her dream was about her tour. She was on center stage, the perfect hair blowing in every direction. She sang and her audience waved their hands and moved to her music, shouting and screaming her name, singing along with her. She had the best fans in the world. She wanted to be a singer and she admired Kaakie in everything. She read Science at the university just to impress her family. She had her own dreams.

One of her fans ran to the stage and hugged her tight, then tapped her on her back.

“Peggy…..Peggy?” Everything started to fade away, but she was hearing her name.

“Peggy?.........Peggy?................wake up”

“Huh?”

“Peggy, don’t you have a class this morning?”

She opened her eyes and saw her roommate staring at her.

“I thought you said you have Calculus class on Fridays.” Akua, her roommate said. She stretched, grabbed her phone and gasped.

7:15am

She startled awake and let herself have a mini panic attack. As she was searching for the snooze button earlier at 5, her finger accidentally turned the alarm off altogether.

She rushed to the bathroom and cursed herself. After less than 5 minutes, she came out, put on her tracksuit and took her bag, shoving her Calculus book and calculator into it.

“What about Calculus class?” Akua asked.

She began combing her rigid her. “I’m on my way.”

“In tracksuit?” her roommate asked, puzzled.

Peggy smiled. “Let’s just pretend, I’m just from the gym.” She picked up her bag and headed for class. 

Serial Review: Pep Talk

It's amazing how you get to meet people with incredible talents.

Meet Awo Dede, a lady whom I was in the same secondary school with, and in the same boarding house. I knew she was doing General Arts, but never knew she had a creative imagination. Anyway, I don't blame her. It's not her fault. She's just like me, we write, then hide it, lol. Awo Dede, I totally understand.

Awo Dede has started writing a blog. Yay! Yoo-hoo! This blog has a serial in it. The title is Pep Talk. The write up is beautiful, amazing, weird and fantastic. I love it. Read episode 1 here and episode 2 here.

The story is about a girl who has reincarnated. I love the imagination of the spirit world. I have never imagined the spirit paradise that way. She used a bit of local dialect too and underneath the story, she wrote the translation of the sentence for those of us who don't understand. Really, Awo Dede is Talent. (I do not mean, talented. She is talent itself)

One thing I didn't like about everything is, there are no images. Apart from that, everything is amusing and arrrhh-mazing. I even bet she can write vampire stories. Tell me, Awo-dede, if you are reading this. Do you like vampire /werewolves stories?

I can't wait to read the continuation, if there would be one. How would it continue, how would it end? I don't want to spoil the fun, so bookmark her blog and follow her on Twitter for more information.

Stay sweet.