“He’s thinner than she remembers. His shirt hanging awkwardly on his shoulders, his gait sluggish. She waits for him to look up and see her, waits for the way his face would light up, waits for way he’ll draw her into his arms. He doesn’t.
I have dry skin. Very dry skin. Which I inherited in combination, with my nose and D-cup, from my lovely parents, whom in retrospect where probably not considering the resulting mixture of their genes when they did that which shall not be named. Read More »
I started the day : A strong, independent, Nigerian woman —– having cake for breakfast. And I didn’t even bake it myself. My friend was baking a cake for someone’s birthday, and it’s a silent unspoken rule between us, that when she’d “level” the cake, I would have some of that.
As you well know, it’s not even close to healthy for breakfast, or any meal, but I was too lazy to make anything else. However, after a few mouthfuls of cake, I got introspective. Like, soul-out-of-body-look-at-your-life kinda introspective. And I’m thinking,
what am I doing? I’m totally going to feel awful after eating this. Bloated too.