Slice of Life

The Day The Gods Answered: Free to read short...

I was born a mistake. Wait, don’t starts talking nonsense about nobody being born a mistake or God, The Writer having a purpose for everybody. Just listen without interrupting for once in your life. So, I was born a mistake on January 9, 1981. My parents did not want me, my father rejected my mother’s pregnancy, and my mother rejected me by downing some abortion pills in her third trimester, but I was born.

Femi rolled off his bed, the voice in his head had gone quiet the second Alero showed up and had stayed that way. He looked behind him to see her sleeping soundly. She had wooped his ass until she passed out, then he took her to sleep.

She grabbed his glass of schnapps and drowned it. Then resumed next to him on the couch. Drunk, and ready to woop his ass.

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Dayo had wanted a serious relationship with Femi, she had thought she would be the one to save him, fix him, but she was wrong. Femi did not want to be saved, nor fixed. And he did not want to have sex with her more than once either. She was bitter and she could not hide it.

She helped him in then shot the door before leading him to her couch. Trying not to say what was on her mind - and she had a lot on her mind - she stared at him with pity. She knew why he did it, why he had sex with every skirt. She believed she knew why, but she could never bring her self to have that conversation with him, plus he was tired, now would not be the time to talk.

The second they were out of view, he pushed her against the wall and ravished her lips, his right hand pushed her top down and dug into her bra, cupping the breast, rubbing the tip with his thumb.

The pay was not good, 60,000 Naira a month, and yet in five short years I had bought two plot of land, 2 range rover Jeeps, and rented a duplex in the high side of Lekki. I made my money like every other journalist in this business.