MY LAST INK
The introductory part
of the letter in which i sent to Betty was about a multiple lines, I ran out of
ink but my few points were made.
"When you left
me,
I sold my conscience
for a while.
You shot me in the
heart and left a hole
A hole as deep as the
heavens so high.
You took away my
meaning, and served me emptiness. Then I lacked protection
My Gold,
I present to you this
list of my feelings,
Please retrieve to
yourself and purchase me your heart."
I peeped from the
window in the backyard, as she smiled over my write up.
Then I thought that i
had crowned the cake with an icing. In a jiffy, she grabbed her lower lip with
a little bit of impatience and her premolars and then tore neatly, the
inscriptions of my last ink.
I got sad, mad and
rang her.
"thank you for
being inpatient towards me, Betty. Now I want to let you be."
I ran back, gathering
the pieces of the torn letter to solve the puzzles, as an evidence of a
shattered relationship. When i was done with the puzzles, it read...
“a big black box, two
medium sized padlocks and a pair of black shoes". All were contrary to my
writings. All were with a Price tag.
It was obviously a
market list from Betty's mother.
I was inpatient.
I was .judgemental
I concluded.
I was disappointed.
The next time I dialed
her contact digits,
She already left the
neighborhood.
I was willing to write
her,
I already used my last
ink.
Ndulue Solomon. E.
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