Night Shift

Manda closed her eyes as she lifted her face towards the sky, feeling the warmth of the tropical breeze illuminate her smooth, moisturized face. Her tiny grey shorts squeezed under her but as she sat on the bare slick boot of Rickoe’s convertible just outside their house. Manda could now feel the conducted heat of…

Ice and Flow

Rickoe. He holds his pen in hand, looking at the sketched lines of rhythm, that have flowed into conception. His hands are all stiff and rigid by now. Rickoe has not had even a sniff of sleep all night. He has been cracking and banging his head all night long, trying to get this done.…

an Unpeaceful Purchase

He wielded the sledge hammer tightly enough that the sweat pores on his palm began to suffocate and his grip was loosening every passing second. Eshiwani had had enough. He waited long enough. He had looked at his precious television set with much pride. With much amazement of how he came to have one of…

Them Freckles

Mr. Omondi, the interrogator on duty, otherwise known as Omosh by his fellow work mates, could feel the cold, hard dew drop on the table in that small windowless room, in that cold lifeless morning. He hadn’t anticipated such an early call to work that day, but the nature of the case on the spotlight…

The Source Code

Back this week. Sometimes I think that the best way to grow as a writer, as far as I know, is to read, and read and read some more. Which is very true. But there are also some other ways in which one can seem to get in touch with stories. Podcasts, I have found…