The scare

The scare

Sunday, March 3, 2013 / No Comments

I just finished polishing the last of the swords. Blood cuds stuck on my hands so I reached for clean water, washed my hands and tidied the kingdom arsenal. The war is over, what next? Indignant as our surviving heroes stood, they couldn't celebrate their victory. Thousands of men went for the war, only a few hundred returned. However victory is still victory, only that the surviving should not forget their fallen heroes. Completing the tedious tasks I decided to stroll to my friend's side. it was just a few hundred of meters away. So i merrily approached forgetting a war just finished. I reached Bode's side only to face wailing family members. His dad is a great warrior and this definitely means he didn't make it. I couldn't actually console him, the news skipped my heart, 'if bode dad didn't make it? Oh my dad!’ I made an exasperating dash home. How can I be so dumb thinking my dad is invisible? I've raced more than half the way on my rush home. I was all wet, wearied right to my bone, i was already growing tears.

'God I hope my dad make it, just as he always does.'

I reached home, mum was pacing the sitting rooms, my brothers all seated with strange calm, my heart raced much more. I couldn't control myself and busted into a short powerful sob. Everybody saw the strong me cry that easily, they couldn't believe their eyes. I rushed towards dad room, mum came after trying to pull me back but I wasn't just yielding, I pulled the door open, I saw dad on the bed he was dying, really dying. I rushed towards him. The physician pulled me back, saying; 'my boy calm down, your dad will make it, but right now all he need is a time alone with me.'

I just don't know what to say to him, I stormed out of the room, totally bitter and out rightly washed in tears. As those tears drops I began writing my speech. If dad should recover, he is never ever going to war again; unless he kills me first.

The waiting wolf

The waiting wolf

Saturday, January 26, 2013 / No Comments

I know it has been quite a while I last wrote any fictional flash, however I’m quite certain it is still in me and so today I decide to take you on an epic adventure. This adventure hangs from the very jaw of fear, a mystic, whose mystery posses a stunning reflection of our timid hearts. See:
The little mansion I and our little sister resides stood sky reaching at the top of the hill; they call it gentle hill. There- surrounding the hill, stretching from its base for a few hundred meters-lies a little swamp soaring with rich swampy lives. The swamp of course had always fed us with a little agricultural and hunting option. The big toads of the swamp, when roasted and dried, then introduced into my mum’s spicy melon soup is quite an irresistible dish when served with pounded yam. The vegetable of course, is a product of our little vegetable beds just at the dryer tip of our gentle hill. We rarely venture beyond our hill, reason best known to our parents.
So that faithful day, I clocked thirteen and the man in me was starting to whisper no more but brawl at me. So, I waited for dad to leave in his rickety truck, then I followed the bridge path, untill it terminated at the dryer landmass unfolding a prairie like expanse. This of course appeared as paradise to me, as the world I knew of was the barren hill top and the muddy swamp one. So I hopped around and about, happy at the lush beauty of the grassy expanse. But you see, little did I know evil lurks around, I saw a tree far beyond, I assumed the tree is of fruity goodness so I advance anxiously, hoping I would even get extras for my little sister. I was quite pacey and realized in no time that the tree was just meters away. Then I heard a loud, frightening sound, “Grrrrrrrrrrrr!” I quickly swiveled my head to where the sound came, and out of one the numerous tiny copses came a ferocious animal now charging at me. I felt an extra burst of energy as I rushed towards the tree and climbed it in seconds. I sat there, at a top branch of the tree, watching the seemingly hungry wolf roam below. So at the top of the tree I sat, waiting in misery for help of any sort. There I still was when darkness came upon us, there I noticed even beyond the horror beneath him, shone the eyes of his kinds. They send echoes of howls beyond the expanse. I believe I was toast as there seemed no miracle that could deliver me safely back home. So I sat there hungry and tired and hopeless until I dozed off, then I didn’t know how but I slipped and fell and then, all I knew was that the waiting creature charged at me and that was all I could remember.
Two days later I opened my eyes and found my dad by my side. He was so happy to see me come back around, but as an inquisitive boy that I was, I took no time in asking how, I had been saved from the hyena. He cleared his throat and said:

“That wolf saved your life my son, what you never knew was that we are a direct descendant of the wolf clan and our clan is the greatest friends of the wolves, however what you didn’t know as well was that you shouldn’t be caught out side in the swamp at night as foul creature crawls the swamp, they are called the poisonous  diving berries, and you see that grassland you were found, the prairie has a handful of other carnivores aside our friendly wolves and that was while upon seeing you and sensing that the wolf clan blood flows in your veins he decided to stay close so as to protect you. So there I sat, wondering how ridiculously I was indeed wary of my true enemies. Our instincts always prove the wisest, but are they really are?