Dream Another Day: Separated ( Part Two )

Charles, Nike and Winifreda

Charles hugs Winifreda. Then takes her right hand. They smile at each other. Then he pulls a chair, and sits down.
"I was wondering when you would come" she says, smiling. "I'm famished."
"I'm here. Winnie."

Dream Another Day : Separated (Part 1)

       
                                  Separated  

"We should adopt the child now."
"We can't do that, Nike."
"But you promised... you accepted this baby."
"No, I never did. You thought l did. I didn't."
"Charles! Why are doing this to me...to us? Why are you lying," screamed Nike.
Her husband walks toward the table, snatches the key of the car. Then his phone rings. He ignores it. It rings and stops. He stares at her.
"l don't want another argument with you. Two are enough for the day."

Death Sentence: the therapy (Part 4)

              Dr Forbe and Jed Heso
              in Psychiatry Hospital, Room 203


Ife pulled up a phone. And dialed a number.
"Good morning, Prof Chi."
He switched on the loudspeaker.
"Good morning Dr Ife Thomas," replied the CMO.
" Prof, I have a case at hand. It needs your attention...your approval."
"What is the case? Is it urgent? An emergency!"
"Yes Madam. It is urgent. We are about to have the last session with our patient, Jed Heso. The husband is here. He came with Dr Quin Douglas. He wants immediate end of the therapy."

               amazon.com/author/nkemmeniru

Dream Another Day-the vote (Part 4)

Dream Another Day- the vote

"Dee, did you see the people. They swarmed on me like bees."
"Davi, don't conclude. Things are not what they seem."
Her husband smirks his lips, smiling.

Death Sentence: the therapy (Part three)

Psychiatry Room 203

The second day, 10 a.m, Psychiatry Room 203.
Dr Ife Thomas and Stan were ready for the session. They were discussing Jed Heso's file. While waiting for her.
"The picture is blurry. But someone, a man or a boy, seemed responsible for the events she passing through. Catchy, isn't it? May be the tail rather than head. Shadows! We have to reach her recesses, ride with her trance,   on the same frequencies else we will lose the elements and events."

Death Sentence-the therapy Part 2

The next day, 10 a. m, Jed Heso went in for a therapy session.

She was tucked into a peach pink stripe pyjamas, on a light blue bed.

Dr Ife Thomas, a smiling, diminutive man with a

Death Sentence- the therapy

the death sentence- the therapy

Heso was not sure where he went wrong. He was not sure what triggered her anger that boiled over like a red mountain throwing  up.
She was grasping a heavy metal club, screaming and closing in on him. He scampered backwards until he reached the windowsill.
Then she struck. The window glasses shattered, the wall edges cracked, and split. And that was his sudden route of escape, he realised. And threw himself through the window, crashing on the pavement. Then he rose, ran and jumped over the spiky fence into his neighbour garden.

Dream Another Day : Chief Justice Nne Wilcox

Chief Justice Nne Wilcox

Nne looks at her watch, it was 4:00 a.m. The stray lights at the portico, the house opposite hers, bouncing off the pillars, stream through the glass windows into the room. She watches this for a while. Then shakes her head, shuts the blinds and the windows as well, and walks back to where her husband.

“She is my friend, Honey. Please acquit her,” she pleads, holding him. 
He smiles, and drops his writing pen.
Darling, it won’t work. Even the blind finds her guilty. All the evidences point at her. She authorized the funds and spent the funds without appropriations. Darling, she is going in for it.”
She moved away from him.
“She is an orphan. We watched her grow. She’s our adopted.”
“This excuse is rubbish. Won’t stand before any law.”

Dream Another Day- honeymoon

honeymoon

“No, we can’t do that, Gab.”

“It’s the only chance we’ve got.”

“How could you talk like this.
“Ann, we should, please. You got to move on.”

“No, we shouldn’t,” she says.

“Darling, you are not listening.”

Gab! I can’t do this to my parents. They love you. They call you son.”

She slips off his chest, off the bed, goes to toward the oval windows. And pulls the drapes. Dull light, cold wind streams in. In the distance, in the thick smog, the elegant Statue of Liberty stood forever, her hand in up in the sky, holding the torch. 

How could she stand there all these years? Formidable, imposing against the odds.