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Love Bite: Finale

 This fictional series contains Nigerian slangs and some inappropriate use of diction. This is for the proper portrayal of the character.

 

Love Bite: Finale

 

The bodies were no longer at the police station. After 56 minutes of chaos, I was directed to a morgue in Ogba. It was a cream-colored bungalow with a small, old brown gate with rusty brown bars. The rain had stopped and the cool air caressed my face, but even in its abundance, I dared not breath easy. He was in there. In a morgue. I drove him into a morgue...

The Best Social Media Analogy I Ever Heard

The images on social media are like the case of the Newscaster who sits at his desk, airbrushed, water-based makeup on, perfect hair, tie knotted, shirt crisp. He begins to speak, everything is excellent. Then the director yells, “Cut!” He gets up from his chair, and the truth is revealed—he’s wearing no pants...

 
 

Love Bite: Entry #9

For the first time in a long time, I got on my knees and prayed. Leke had been missing for four days; I couldn't go to work; I still didn't know who was sending the videos. It was a mess- a hot mess.

I heard God likes hot messes. He could fix them.

Please bring Leke home. 

It was all I could mutter. I laid my head on the bed, whispering those words over and over. Quickly, the bedsheets dampened with warm tears and my sobs, muffled against the soft cotton. If God heard me, he wasn't in a rush to respond. I stayed on my knees until the stiff protrusions of the rug tendrils digging into my knees faded away and I fell asleep.  I woke with a start to the vibration of my phone. I squinted at the screen. It was a text message. A strange number...