Marius Tudor
By
Bernard Ollo
Kate went to watch the Masquerade dance at Adasha. The masquerades danced so well. She was back home.
Itches under her breasts. She was beginning to feel that sensation. She felt as though a millipede was crawling on her spine and worry made her sour. Her thoughts she gave particularly to nothing, her feet were drowned in fire as she paced around her room. Her eyes settled on a quote written on a sticker pinned to the wall:
”The things you do are the
things you are. Life is fragile.
The ocean is sparkling as a
froth. If I were you I will love.
If I teach you another riddle
you’ll become a thief.”
Her face swelled in irritation. Nothing was in her eyes. She sat back on the two-seater. She tried to remember: He took her to a Lagos bar beach. ”Kisses are golden, Kate, you know.” A smile streamed from his face and a gap in his upper teeth. ”Life is love. A kiss is the most wonderful thing in the beach.”
Her smile was so long. Songs freed from her heart as soap bubbles from soapy water. Through her sunglasses, she saw two young couples kiss. That kiss was the kiss she loved, so simple.
She phoned Collins and told him that her favourite colour was sunset yellow and asked him what his favourite colour was; he said white.
Her eyes were a glow of confusion. Her throat tightened. Something banged in her head.
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