Rosette -2-


“It’s slightly late I know, but thanks for agreeing to make an exchange for the goods purchased.”

“No need at all, it should be I who should be thanking you for coming at such a short notice. I know you were probably in the middle of cooking a storm. It’s fun how you waft and mix those spices. The aroma is usually tantalizing.”

“I’m sorry, this is likely to be difficult.”

“Not at all. Everything happens for a reason Sir.”

“Apart from the business side of things, do you think this is an idiotic way of trying to compensate for things? That perhaps I might be using you as a replacement?”

“No. It could never be that way. Every person is their own, irreplaceable individual. But still people try to burry their past. In whatever way they can.”

“We all tell lies for some reason or another. Useless ones like, I’ll call you when I get home. Or rather that I’d see you off at the train station.”

“Yeah, true. We never call each other unless it’s beneficial towards both of us. But then we both have a lie that sticks to us like gum does on those church benches. The lies that we’re not seeing anyone but yet everything is termed as complicated. Truth is I’ll miss you every single day. I know you won’t show up at the train terminus. You’re a busy man. Work, travel, and the likes. I made peace with that. Though I’d like to slot in an hour tomorrow before we part ways.”

“An hour it seems.”

“Or maybe and a half.”

“When does your train leave?”

“1500 hours.”


“What time would you be reporting for work.”

“1430 hours.”

“1100 hours would be fine if we rendezvous?”

“Sure. What do you have in mind?”

“You have something that makes me think of you whenever the miles seem too long. I know you don’t do distance things and that this might be a distraction or rebound that you wanted away from the chaos of life. I needed this too to be honest. So I’ll utilize every moment left with you before we become strangers again.”

“1100 hours. Don’t keep me waiting.”

“I won’t. Ride safe.”

Her lips still tasted good. And even better everytime she took me down the streets to pound town. I wonder what tomorrow would look like, knowing that I’d be headed towards a very different destination away from her. Well, it’s a bit sad that the character development she’d face would have to come from me.


She lays her head on my chest. Her pretty well manicured fingers stroke my bush of a beard. The bed is tousled, wine glass stained with lipstick, used whiskey glass, a brasserie on the table, a pillow on the edge of the bed, a shirt and dress on the chair, a lighter and cinnamon sweets left on the balcony. The room was elegant with a panoramic ocean view.

“I guess will have to relive this moment when we meet each other again.” She says.

“If time & distance is favorable towards us.” I say.

“You’d be married?”

“I don’t know about that either. All I know is that the sins of man are never forgiven. And if they’re they’d be brought up whenever they’d be an argument.”

“We should stop sinning on a weekday don’t you think?”

We both chuckle.

Amwadeghu Blog is also accepting support from M-Pesa. 5338319 is the till number. Whichever the amount will be gladly appreciated to keep this space running. You can also purchase 88,000 Acres of Bad Shit & Boonies from Maktaba or pay via the above till number also. The quill needs ink to run on.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *