Disclaimer: Every story from this series is a creation of Ajibike Oyindamola, figments of my imagination and not based on any real life person(s). Do not use any part of this series without the writer’s permission.
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Kayode took a drag on the wrapped paper between his lips and slowly inhaled the smoke. The chemical gradually crawled up his bloodstream. He pulled out his notebook and pen. He opened to the last page he’d written on. A piece of poetry he’d named Journey. He had written all but four lines.
‘Who be that?’
‘Zainab. Open na.’
He put out the lit wrap, hurried to the bathroom to rinse his mouth and popped a mint gum. He brought out a can of air freshener.
He pulled on a grey shirt and unlocked the door. Zainab stood there, radiant in a purple gown. She didn’t have a scarf on.
‘Zay baby. How far na?’
She walked in and looked about. She sniffed aloud and wrinkled her nose.
‘Kay you’re still into this weed business?’
‘I didn’t do anything!’
She turned and slapped him on his chest.
‘Don’t lie to me!’
He ran his hand through his hair.
‘Babe things have been tough.’
‘And smoking is supposed to make them easier?’ She queried.
‘I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.’
‘That was the same thing you said just last week and three days ago.’
He had a remorseful look on and she felt sorry for him.
‘I’m trying really hard. Please understand.’
She sighed, dropped her bag and hugged him.
‘I do understand. Old habits die hard but you have to stop.’
He gave a small smile.
‘I’ll stop. Just for you.’
She smiled back at him.
He kissed her forehead and tugged at her braids.
‘How come your hair is uncovered?’
‘Oh that? The weather is quite hot today. I didn’t want to get sweaty.’
‘The style is nice.’
She blushed slightly.
‘I brought you lunch.’
‘Yes!’ He exclaimed.
He did a little dance and she laughed heartily. He pulled her close and twirled her, forcing her to join in the dance. Running out of breath, he started to cough and wheeze.
And then she knew.
To be continued.
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