Wishing Is A Conversation

Wishing Is A Conversation

You walked rather slowly to the door. The doorbell had rung thrice before the one you heard and the postman was about leaving your doorpost when you opened the door. You received the letter I sent you. You didn’t know at first it was from me. You weren’t expecting a letter from me. No! Not anymore.You jumped up and down like a dog who sights a bone in the hands of a stranger. You were excited that I finally sent a letter. You missed me, your tongue told that secret silently. Your heart leaped to peep at what the letter holds. You didn’t remember to go back into your apartment before you tore the seal. Impatience stole your fingers from you.You walked in. Before you read the letter, you had imagined me writing you about coming home. Another thought about me informing you about my new family came but you didn’t let that thought stay.You dipped your hand into your mind and handpicked that thought like it was chaff in the beans you were to sort for dinner.Your joy knew no bound and your right leg quivered like it used whenever you are anxious about me coming over to see you.How would you forget how you taught me to tell lies to Mazi Nnamdi, my Dede’s older cousin, whenever you want me to come and how creative a liar you become whenever you wanted me to sleep over?Your mind walked our whole relationship before you opened the letter. You called upon Amadioha, the god you believed in for courage over a hundred times before unfolding the paper.With a careful handwriting, it was written, “Please, call me on 09076453342. It’s urgent, Onyinye.”You searched behind the paper to look for more letters that would draw you close to memory. There were none.“Haba, why Onyinye go wan do me this kain tin. She too like suspense ehn.”You reached for the empty space in your pocket in search of your phone. You didn’t find it. You perused your brain to seek where you might have left it. You dashed out of your apartment briskly. You found Sam at the door.“Alaye, I be wan show for una room. Abeg you helep me fin my palasa?”“Guy, why you con dey shake laik diz na. You wan shit? Take ur phone, you leave am for my bed when you show for morning”You collected the phone from him sharply and he stood watching as you performed your drama. You reached for the paper where her number was written in your pocket and dialed it immediately.You could feel the afternoon sun chill immediately. You held the phone tight to your ear so that you didn’t want to hear any other’s but mine. My voice was the most charming thing you said you have ever heard.You said “HELLO!” when the MTN lady was urging you to press eleven to copy the P-Square’s ring-back tune, Onyinye (the one you sing every time you are about to ask for sex. That song turns me on).Finally, you heard a masculine voice from the other end of the phone. Amadioha forsook you and your courage so you sank down the earth. Your voice dug a grave for itself and the guy at the other end yelled, “Hello” a couple of times.He hung up on you.You waited for some very still minutes before you called back. Sam stood watching your display of sheer stupidity but had to leave when his wife called him for lunch. For Sam, food is more important that a weird and stupid friend.The phone rang and rang, then a beep.You and the same masculine voice said “Hello” at the same time. You spoke up now and asked for me. Audu asked who you were and you told him you are Lucky. Audu attacked you immediately, “bet Oga, why you go con do dah one for Onyinye na. When them Boko Haram attacked her bank the first day she resumed, she told me at the hospital to write you a note and send you a letter through the NiPost. You just dey call now?  Oga, yawa don gas oo! She don die nine months ago.”You froze. You absorbed every word with haunting echoes. You became pale. You were lost in the middle of his story. You cared less about the rest of the story.You chewed on the last sentence he made.” She don die nine months ago. She don die nine months ago. She don die nine months ago. She don die nine months ago. She don die nine months ago. She don die nine months ago. She don die nine months ago. She don die nine months ago…”You have been masturbating about me since I left. You have been thinking about me since I left. I have been here with you since I died. You’ve been yearning for my touch while I have been trying to touch you.I wish I did not leave, I wish.©tohQuality

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