JOY NGOFAA'S BLOG

If it had not been that she was very familiar with his indigenous name, she would have waved it off as 'mistaken identity'. But then, his figure sat firmly beside the fair thin lady in an enfolded fashion. It had to be a dream, otherwise why would the 'man of her dream's' image be printed on a wedding invitation card, announcing his marriage to someone else. She read out the names again, this time more purposefully and slowly than before, then pinched herself to make certain it was all an ugly nightmare that was sure to be over soon. To her dismay, she felt the pain  in her skin and realized it was just as real as the fried potatoes she had for breakfast.         George was everything she had ever hoped for. His thin narrow face in-holding sharp bulgy eyes, with small almost pointed nose underneath. His lips were slightly red and slightly pouted. To top the icing on the cake, he was tall and built. Although she wasn't exactly particular about height in men,

All I want  is be wrapped up in your arms surrounded by the warmth of your love piercing deep within my soul All I want is the embrace of your love  curing my wounded heart Like an ointment upon my broken skin finding every hidden piece  All I want  is the safety of your coll the soft whispers of your breath that keeps my soul at peace within Written by: Joy Ngofaa  Would you like to stay connected and get quotes that will inspire and motivate you? Follow our instagram page @ JoyNgofaa'sblog To stay connected and get notifications on new posts, be a darling and subscribe. Don't forget to share also.. Big thanks.

The time is 10am. I decided to get breakfast first. We better return to our story. ______________________________ Gina was crying and Tracy was watching her. Her big eyes turned to me the minute I stepped in. “What are you doing?” I asked, slurring my words. I could hardly see anything, but I knew she was packing. She was packing a lot of her stuff. She just sniffled, ignoring me. I walked up to her, pulling her by her hair up. “I say why are you packing these things, Gina?” I asked again. I was surprised at my own voice. Next thing, I was on the chair. The sting of the slap told me what had happened. Gina had slapped me and I was too drunk on my feet to stand, I had slumped into the seat. I just sat there growling lowly, saying things I still don't understand. And somewhere in the part of my mind that was still alive, I could hear Gina's voice. “I loved you despite you making me a mother when I wasn't ready for it and I still loved you when you turned a drunk. B

I'm flipping pages. Flipping and fliping and flipping. Then one stops me. It's recognition that hits me actually. What's her picture doing in his diary? I remember that dress, then that night... Recognition pokes me in the chest again. Her legs are spread wide. And her lips have that bright smile. 'Slit' I mutter under my breath, my heart burning underneath my skin. I scan the writings on the page I found the the picture. I scan and scan, and read past a lot of words until I get it. No! It gets me actually. This was what he wanted me to see? To read to him? To swear to keep? Guilt stabs at me. Guilt at thinking he would ever cheat on me. Even if he did, I well do deserve it, but he didn't even On death bed, he still wanted to help.  He has always wanted to help, all his life, all his sad little life. "What took you so long,  Beetle" He's asking as I sit with the diary in hand. He has that youthly smile. The one that got me that firs