THE CLOUDS ARE GATHERING
The
clouds are gathering! Now I hear rumbles from within me, quakes of water,
warring and warning of an impending downfall. I hear it at night; the kicks and
movement of gathered water, threatening to break the membrane of soft cells
that holds it at bay, the warnings come at noon, eve and even before day breaks.
It looms like an inevitable gong of impending war, and I dread it; like a child
fears the sight of sprinkling blood. I fear the heaviness of the rain, the
portals of strong strokes falling rapidly in succession, the eaves and breaths
of the sky descending uncontrollably down the earth and the eventual wetness
that slumps red earth into slums, and drain the soil of all its dryness. I
dread many things and every thing about the rain, but nothing more like the
gathered cloud, the terrestrial rumbles from above, rambling through portals and
causing shivers, the wind of gathered cloud, splashing in lightening and
thundering thunders. But the downpour I now fear threatens from within me and
soon it will rain.
It
all started with dryness on a valentine day, every downpour begins with one. I woke
up with a sudden thirst, a drive and cravings for excitement. The day was young
but I felt bored, like my entire existence had been clouded with dryness, and I
had been shrink and compressed into an average soul within myself. I was still
in bed, gradually rising into consciousness, but I had nothing to look forward
to in a day that should have been promising, I couldn’t start wondering why I
had lived such an uneventful life but I laid down and sunk deeper into the
comforts of my pillow and remembered Sanda, he was the reason for all this
negative feelings I was now feeling.
Stephen
Sanda! I met him on Facebook on Friday the 13th as he termed it, a
day that should have been filled with excitement and fun for him if not for the
election that was supposed to be on the 14th. He wanted to throw a
party on the night before val but couldn’t due to the planned election, and
when the election was postponed, it was too late to start organizing a party so
he laid down on his bed that night and decided to open a Facebook account, and
the first damsel he would see on the social network was me. At least that was
the story he told me, and it was too flattering for me to pass up as a lie or
joke.
I
wasn’t a social network addict, or a Facebook fan for that matter, I was the
type of person that could lie comfortably in bed all day and refuse to go
online talk less of replying messages or accepting friend requests on Facebook.
But Friday the 13th was different; I decided to go through my
Facebook wall, read posts and comments and even reply some messages, then I saw
a new request coming in to join the endless stream of requests that I had
simply ignored.But Sanda??? I thought the person must have meant to type Sandra
and out of curiosity and perplexity I accepted the request and then found out
the account belongs to a guy and I was his only Facebook friend. He looked cute
though.
‘So
your name is Sanda and I am your only friend here. Are you stalking me?’ I
wrote on his wall and he replied almost immediately. ‘Yeah bae! Every beauty
deserves a stalker.’ I chuckled loudly and replied ‘Well I don’t need sanda as
my first stalker. Sanda???’
‘But
my name is Sanda! At least thatwas the name my parent chose for me.’ He
messaged me and that was how we started chatting. From random courtesies to
personal experiences; we chatted deep into the night and eventually conversed
about plans for Val and our lustful Val wishes, but I had none. I was a big
time novice without any sexual or lustful experiences, and that was when he
started making me feel boring and average, like I’ve lived but never lived, as
fun and excitement had simply eluded me.
I
had never stayed awake beyond 10pm before Friday the 13th, I may be
able to dance but I’ve never tried so I don’t even know if my body can move in
rhythms with music, I don’t 0have any close friend; at least close enough to
know the things I had never done, I had never tasted any alcoholic substance, I
had never gone to visit a guy; talk less of having a boyfriend or kissing, I
had never done anything that was beyond average and I had never confessed all
this to anyone apart from Sanda. He seemed close and wild with a seeming sense
of understanding and adventure as he began to make me feel like there may be
more to me than this me, or there may be more to life than sleeping, waking up
and schooling. I eventually slept off on the chats, but my mind kept pondering
on how dry my life had all been and I craved wetness with an intensity that I
never knew existed in me.
I was still ruminating on my miseries on
valentine day when my phone rang. ‘Hey it’s Sanda, happy Val and how was your
night damsel?’ He sounded epicene; I couldn’t place the voice as either
masculine or feminine. ‘Did I give you my number?’ I was curious and it was
another thing I had never done before; dish out my number to an absolute
stranger. ‘Yeah you did! You said you were sleepy and I should call you in the
morning.’ Of course I did and I knew I did.
‘But
Sanda, who the hell are you?’
‘Your
stalker Simi, I thought we established that.’ He sounded so close and familiar
and I began to crave him too.
‘Will
you be my Val?’I asked before I knew it.
*****
I want more already, please keep it flowing
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