#Jay’s super short stories 9

photo credit: D Rogale,
fineartamerica.com

I slapped my chest and then cupped my full breasts. ‘Ra ra! Ah!!’ I screamed and threw myself to the ground, ignoring the calls of ‘erora ma’ from the small audience that was building to watch my dance of pain. My dance of shame. Why had I not listened to all Feyi’s warnings? She had seen through him, oh, she had seen. I should have listened. I rolled. Left then right, in the dirt of the harmattan hardened ground wailing my anguish. I had lost everything. Everything I had worked for over the years, everything I had built with blood and sweat. All of it, gone! And who could I blame? He’d come with smooth tales, and a full head of hair. His honeyed tongue promised undying love, never mind that we were from different worlds. The seventeen years I was alive before he was born were nothing to him. He wanted me. I wanted to make him happy. Bought him fancy cars and fancy houses. Took him to places on the map he pointed. How could he do this to me? Feyi had warned me that he was only here for what I had. I had slapped and sent her out. Now he’s cleaned out my bank accounts. Wiped every single one empty with the very access I’d given him as my spouse. He’s disappeared into thin air, and when I went back to ask in the places where I used to meet him, I was told that there had never been a Femi there. I slapped my chest and cupped my breasts, all I had left was pain and regret.

#jaymaren

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