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Ade's Journal Part 6

Ade's Journal Part 6
My Valentine & The Elegance Of A Clean Breakup

Ade's Journal Part 5

Ade's Journal Part 5
My Scrumptious Valentine Kiss

Ade's Journal Part 4

Ade's Journal Part 4
A Scorpion is not a Lobster

Ade's Journal Part 3

Ade's Journal Part 3
My Insane Week Before Valentine

Ade's Journal Part 2

Ade's Journal Part 2
He Had The Guts To Come Back

Popular Posts

Wednesday, 27 March 2019

What I Want


"ADE'S JOURNAL", 4

    Like a sting from a scorpion, a sharp jolt shocked and confused me. I instinctively press at my index finger, obviously there is cut there. There is one thing that can end this, a hot compression on it will end the pain. Luckily, I was boiling some water. I let it start to burn the cut that was not bleeding until my pain threshold ended and I jump up and down. That should do it, I add staring at the finger and searching for the cut. There was none, just a loose cuticle and instead of the pain subsiding it intensified.
I made myself some hot cocoa and then started to feel sleepy. It was time and so I cross checked that all was switched off and safe before crashing into my large comfortable bed.
I woke up staring at the finger and also with a fever, my period was about to start so that's normal. I have too much to do and need this beauty sleep. I wonder if men call it beauty sleep?

 

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Sunday, 3 March 2019

The Inscriptions Is Clear


  "ADE'S JOURNAL", 24


Paranoid bunch of buffoons, just look at them, useless set of nonentities. These are words that spring from her quivering gashed mouth as she shivered and booked with rage and started to feel the impact of the several punches she threw at her assailants. It was never the plan, she muttered and scrunched her face into the ugliest cry she could ever imagine. Everywhere hurt and it hurt more that people watched on as she was assaulted by young jobless men, pretending to wait at the bus stop for a bus. The very first time in her life she was attacked and robbed, the pain didn't stop and she felt like she was not screaming loud enough. So she did the most sane thing that spring out of her inflamed head, it hurt and she could feel her brain bouncing and banging on her skull.

'Stop, madamu stop shouting', the sweaty palmed woman tried and failed to comfort her.
The crowd had gathered and a stupid fool shoved a phone in her face to capture her distraught face. Without thinking, she grabbed and tossed the phone and heard it skid and land in a drainage with dirty black soothe. The sould it made as it sunk and drowned hugged her and calmed her down. People were retraining the useless young man that had dived and failed to retrieve his phone.
None of it feels real, no...
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Adebusola Ukayat Elegbede is a Playwright and Content creator with a passion for real life challenges. Born in Kaduna state and lives in Lagos Nigeria, she has a passion for story telling from the perspectives of characters in conflicting situations. I started out on the New Writing Project in Nigeria with the British Council Lagos Nigeria and The Royal Court Theatre, Sloane Square U.K. My passion for creating stories led to comic books, television drama's and an online journal on my website (busolaelegbede.com). As part of the WPIC in Stockholm Sweden 2012, the experience has forged life long friends and ignited my passion as a volunteer and advocate for human rights and the United Nations 17 Sustainable Development Goals.

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