Legs wide closed - 1

Some call me a whore. Not that I care. I love sex. It’s a born ‘need’. You know that kain need wey you don know since pikin say na brothel get you if reason nor gum your brain wen you old? That’s the kinda need I knew I had with sex. It was not one of reason but one of pure lust. I felt the urge for sex since I was 5, when I could reason, I never saw it nor felt it but sensed it. You catch my drift? You can never cause you ain’t me. (laughs). While kids talked about wanting to be doctors and lawyers and nurses, I said I wanted to be the queen dominitress of a brothel. An expensive one I must say, having 4 husbands ,living in 4 different countries, all knowing I have them but not caring cause they want to be with me badly. It was my fairy-tale (devilish grin). Lust was what I was born with, love I found out as I grew older.
It started with Damien. He was a cute innocent kid. Well I thought he was until I attempted to kiss him in elementary class and he stuck his long tongue into my mouth. It was awful, even at that age I knew kissing was a skill, an art that must be perfected. You don’t just stick your tongue in a woman’s mouth and exchange saliva and call it a kiss. NO. Just like you don’t stick it into her vagina and call it cunnilingus. It’s an act you gats to perfect, a god you have to worship in all glory. Let’s leave the kissing bit till much later and focus on the present. Cunnilingus. So, you think it’s what is written in the books? You feel you are a pro cause most ladies pretend to love it and moan, and shout just like the movies and you go about calling you self the cunniligust-king (laughs in pidgin). One thing for sure, we have a lot to learn in the art of sex in this country. But, that’s a story for another chapter. What do I want to talk about now, you tell me but I know it has to do with sex, great sex, I love to call it fucking!
 My first time wasn't magical as the books claim it will be. I actually wanted it to be over as I presumed it will be painful like our mum’s claimed it would be. Funny, it was neither. It was a shocker he was in, I didn't feel a thing; only heard him scream in delight as he gained entrance into the temple of doom. I got up, wore my clothes and went home. All I could feel was a shiver; the only thread to the path way of pure pleasure. Yes, the pain came in lil successions while I slept but all I could think of was the stream of fantastic ecstasy I will experience after and I couldn't wait. The next day, the experiments started. He got scared. ‘I thought you were a virgin, how do you know all these’ he asked. Ah sharap and just fuck, I thought. Now is the time to carry out all them tricks I read in the karma sutra book. Time to unleash the dominatrix. (laughs) it was a road to exploration and he, was a willing student; not that I the teacher knew much of what I was doing but, I was born to be a pro *winkwink*
After a while, it was time to experiment with older guys. Believe me, it was worse even. They knew NOTHING. The books just make it seem the older they are the better. I was the don, the leader of the pack, SHE that must be obeyed…SEXUALLY. (laughs) it was a joy ride I must say, I learnt the ropes the fun way. The more I got fucked the better I became. Sex was the food I lived on, I was in a world all for me. I had it all until I met HIM. Now he wasn’t what the books claimed he did be either. He wasn’t tall like 6feet 2inch, he did not have chiseled chin and he sure did not pack a 6inch but he was such a delight sexually to be with and here started the journey to sexual exploration and realization. Here in lived all I knew about how to please a man and keep him coming. The sexual advocate in me was about to be unleashed and there was no stopping me. It started with a phony phone call.
‘Hi, can I speak to Brenda?’ ‘who’? ‘Brenda’. ‘There is no one like that here’. Click. The phone went dead. I was so angry. I was expecting a call from a friend who just returned from London as I wanted to party that day and here was a call for a Brenda. None of my siblings had that name, none could bear that name, they were all guys. I was the only girl amongst 3 boys though the first born hence, my macho/control freak attitude. It wasn’t easy being an elder sister to 3 mischievous young men. Actually we were all teenagers at this point. I was 19 and the youngest was 13. They listened to me more than they did my parents cause I knew how to get them (laughs) the act of indulging one to get their weakness was an act I learnt early in life. I used it on my brothers so now I have secrets of them they never want out hence their loyalty to me. We all have secrets, secrets that we believe should be kept away for life, for we believe it can tarnish us hence we sell our souls to it so it can be kept hidden for life. Secrets that hold us prey to whoever we reveal it to. I don’t have secrets; I try not to at least so no one can hold me to ransom.
‘Please can you tell me your name? cause I swear she gave me this number and called herself Brenda’. This time, I listened attentively to his voice. He sounded Caucasian, just like my step brother. He had this softness to his voice like he couldn't hurt a fly yet I can sense mischievousness to it. This time I was nicer. ‘well I am sorry about that but this is the Jackson’s residence and I happen to be the only daughter. My names are all in my native dialect and my pet name sound nothing like Brenda except you are talking about my mum who passed away years back. My step mum is Caucasian like you but she isn't Brenda either so mister, I suggest you find that mysterious girl and get her real name. Bye’. I hung up the phone and burst into laughter. I can be nice and mean all at the same time and I love it. By the way, yeh I have a step brother, he is Caucasian like his mum and he is the only one that I still haven’t found his secret but I am still searching.
Later that evening, my favorite cousin Sandy came around. We loved to hide under the bed with our duvet covering our legs and read love novels, giggling at every sexual activity plus drool over the imaginary Greek god like men they describe. There was a time we actually didn't date a guy if he didn't fall into the ideal of a Greek god. At same time, we also made sure you had style, class and cash: We could tell from your watch, belt, shoe and the way you walk. Yes, men who are confident are often like that cause they have something to offer you more than their physical appearance and knowledge. They often elude sexuality cause they can pamper you – believe it or not, men get a kick out of the fact that they can pamper their girl however way they want but most especially how she wants – it gives them some sort of authority and make them more sexually confident and it eludes from them like a porous element.
After our ‘under the bed game’ we went into the shower together; as always. We never touch ourselves but did with our eyes; looking at our round boobs and feeling every curve of softness with our minds eye. Hers was small while mine was just big enough for a man to cup and fill his hands. We also love to stare at our vee-vee, looking at the way it curves and the little hair that surrounds it, then up to our lips as we lick them and stare into each other’s eyes in intervals and giggle. It was like a ritual, It was sooooo much fun. When we step out, we take it in turn to help dry our hair. This is the point we touch each other, slowly, seductively and needy. We giggle as we change position. I love to throw my head backward when she dries my hair. Then I did turn and stare her straight in the eyes, not smiling and watch how nervous she gets trying to keep up the stare as she dries my hair with the towel. Our naked body inches away from each other yet we won’t touch, just the towel in her hands, drying my hair while our breath, hot against our flesh gets heavy and pulsates in fast motion. I love to be in control and at that instance, I owned her. I laughed out and ran naked to the room as she recovered from her lust state and ran after me laughing too. We ran into my bed and under the sheets staring up at the roof, only legs in the sheet. This was what I liked doing, she just follows suit. Suddenly, her voice broke the silence. ‘By the way, I saw this really cute guy while hanging out with Bode. He kept disturbing me for my number and name so I gave him your number with a fake name ‘ she laughs again. ‘ Brenda, was that the name you gave him’? ‘Yes’ she said smiling, turning to the side to face me. I turned too to look at her and that instance, my room door flung open. In screams, we dug our naked body into the duvet, hiding from my step brother Clem. ‘Clem can’t you knock? That word was created for humans you know’. ‘There you go again with your cocky statement. And stop hiding your not yet blossomed bodies from me, I prefer women in their 20’s than shy teens that think they know it all’. ‘Grrr’ was all I could respond with. ‘nyways, mum needs your flat butt downstairs, she and your dad got some announcement to make’.
We threw the pillows at him as he shuts the door, dressed up and went down to get the info that I’ll be having another younger sibling but this time from my step mum. I prayed so much for it to be a girl and at the same time had mixed feelings as it reminded me of my mum. Next thing I knew, everyone was around me consoling me; I was sobbing. I looked up at my step brother who just stood there looking at me like as if saying ‘you are such a softie’. Then I turned to look at my cousin and everyone including I was shocked at what came out of my mouth ‘so this guy you told I was Brenda, do you think I will like him’?

Legs wide closed - prelude

He felt like a hard knot screwed in badly. I knew I wanted him off me just I didn’t want him to feel so bad. He had tried hard to get between my legs so now that he got his crown, he should savor the moment like a real king. That brought laughter to my face though cause a real king should fuck like royalty and not a slave. He jerked. Is that a cry I hear? I wonder. Why do men look like hardcore yet they cry like babies when cumming? Beats me!

As I put on my clothes not caring to have a bath just thinking, ‘I guts to get out of here fast’. His hot breath covered my delicate skin with invincible tar as I quiver in disgust. ‘that was lovely darlyne’ he said with his fake British accent. I shuddered and wore my booths in a hurry. He tried to cup my face to kiss me but I wiggled free with a fake smile. I do not kiss men I don’t fancy as a rule and this…was just a pity fuck.

The street was cold and dark. Fear was far from me cause my cossy bed was all I could think of. Men are becoming lousy by the second. Why can’t one pick a good lay. Initially, my thoughts were to visit another bar and pick up another stray but hey! I can’t risk another fucked up orgasm. This will do for the night. Dope mixed with tramadol and alchy will help stimulate my responses so I could cum with fore play. I cross over to my apartment with a smile knowing my fingers got work to do.

It was a cold night and only cold thoughts filled my mind. I missed him but my pride could not call him, he had to pay for what he did. I am paying too but a prize is worth ten thousand betrayals. In my case, it was 1 betrayal that felt like ten thousand (laughs).  I hate to masturbate but with the kinda not well tutored sex roving men we have out there now a day, masturbation was a plus. Better to half satisfy myself than to fuck a man that made me hate fucking him (shivers). Na, I ain’t that stupid anymore.

My escapades are becoming numerous but its needed cause I cannot be easily satisfied. But since I met him, he doesn’t satisfy me yet I just want to keep fucking him. I feel its karma, I feel its boomerang but hey, I feel something and that counts for everything. I quickly took a shower, smoked some weed with my very good spicey drug enhancer and ‘quick-quick’ my body start to dey hit record. Fingers slide down to find the lips as it rubbed gently against it. My breath deepens and quickens as I felt warm and slimy down beneath my legs. It escalates as my body starts to quake. But wait o, man scarce wey I guts play with myself like this? No good sex out there? The more my mind wanders the more the moans and groans my lips rendered. I was feeling every part of my body between my legs as I rubbed my fingers against my clits. I pushed it in, then deep, deep, deep and deeper as I screamed in pleasure. This was so good as the drug made my sense feel like I had a strong, fat dick in me fucking the living day lights out of me. I screamed in pleasure like a raging beast. My fingers got deeper as I bleed; I could fill the cum swell up in my veins, the screams got louder, the pleasure intense as I exploded to a thousand stars roving round Zeus as Hades kills him and drags the last breath out of his soul.

I went numb with my fingers still in-between my legs. Sweet sleep took me to nada land. What weed and tramadol can do to your brain.

8 Keys To Telling A Competitive Brand Story by Mark Di Somma

Everyone has a story now. Or at least most brands claim to have one. But having a story in many ways is like having a product. Really it means nothing if it is not competitive as a narrative and personally relevant to each recipient. So your story must be distinctive from the other stories that are in play in a market and it must continue to be so. That’s challenging in fast moving sectors where there is always something new to look at, another brand tale to try.
That’s why you can’t set and forget a story. Anymore than you can set and forget your business strategy. As your business adapts and responds to changes in the market and the initiatives of your rivals, your story must change too if it is to remain competitive. What that means in effect is that your story is subject to eight ongoing forces, all of which influence what you tell in different ways:

1. Your story must be long (in terms of scope) – you need a story that is capable of being told over an extended period of time, meaning it must have enough aspects (threads) for you to push your storytelling forward, developing, introducing and twisting as the story goes to keep people involved and wanting to know more.
2. Your story must be deep – you need a story that allows you to delve into the detail of different aspects to intrigue, to prove expertise, to demonstrate detail, to highlight a facet, to deliver a backstory.
3. Your story must be competitive – there is no point in telling a story that is similar to that of your biggest rival, or in telling the same story as the rest of the industry. You need an angle – a perspective that is refreshing and different, that sets what you have to say apart from what others are talking about. It must be more relevant to the people to whom it is addressed than the story your competitors want to share with them.
4. Your story must be social – it must be more shareable across a full range of social media. So it must invite contribution and input. It must share ownership with the community that forms around it. And it must take its cues, through data analysis and analytics as you collect information on customer shopping habits, customer interests and customer concerns in terms of areas of accent, aspects to explore further, ideas that need to be brought forward. As you gather insights, you need to find ways to inject those ideas into the conversation in order to immerse people further in the storyline.
5. Your story must be communal – David Berkowitz, the CMO at MRY, made the comment recently that the marketing industry is obsessed with telling stories, but brands need to become story makers, not just storytellers. “Do you think people really get brands’ stories?,” he asks. Great question. “Think of a brand you love … Do you know what its story is? … The future of storytelling isn’t about telling anyone anything. It’s about storymaking, where the brand facilitates and taps into the stories people are creating and sharing with each other. Storytelling is the epitome of the old one-way, broadcast mindset that so many of us in marketing are trying to leave behind.”
6. Your story must be respectful – The temptation with sharing stories is to increase the levels of social familiarity. Recent research from WPP’s Geometry Global suggests that a lot of consumers would like a little more distance please. Commenting on the finding that 40% of Internet users across the world don’t see the point in friending a brand online, Cesar Montes, Geometry’s chief strategy officer for Europe, the Middle East and Africa says, “There is not a real rejection of brands using social channels to communicate with [consumers] … The rejection is about brands using social as if they were my friends in the typical way that Facebook users would use [social].” That same reserve can be extrapolated to stories. Brands need to cultivate interest and participation, but at the same time, getting too close, too quickly or asking consumers to take an interest that is too personal is more likely to see them leaning out rather than in.
7. Your story must be protectable – in a dynamic and competitive storytelling environment, you need to be able to adapt your story to preserve its singularity. If others attack your story, you must have a response strategy in place. If others look to intrude on your narrative, you must defend your right to tell the story you do, take your story in a new direction or work with the community of people who are drawn to your story to evolve it.
8. Finally, every story needs a sequel – your story must be able to run its full course, but then a new story must take over, a story that takes its reference from who you were but somehow redefines how people will know you into the future.

Sponsored By: Brand Storytelling Workshop Series
Branding Strategy Insider is a service of The Blake Project: A strategic brand consultancy specializing in Brand Research, Brand Strategy, Brand Licensing and Brand Education

Empowering Youths - For Upcoming Fashion Designers

Calling all Fashion Schools,

Get your best students to be a part of Miss Heritage Nigeria 2014

It brings recognition to your school and also to your students and they could win fantastic prizes with the grand prize being a 'shop' for them to start off their outfit!

To partake, they should form a team made up of a fashion designer, make up artist and bead maker and pay the sum of N25,000 to EDZ Entertainment limited 006-079-1254, Access Bank or N10,000 as an individual

Then send their team/outfit name, scanned copy of teller, pix of work together and valid phone number. To edzentertainment@gmail.com

Also, they shld go on twitter n ff @MissHeritageNig then tweet name of outfit, a number (btwn 1-37) and a pix tagging #MissHeritageNg2014 n get their ffs to retweet

This will give them extra point during the final competition.

Get the fame, get noticed, partake in Miss Heritage Nigeria 2014

Call 08023407497 or 08167775503 for more info
Bbpin: 24F466BB
           21AFC132
Like us on www.facebook.com/nationalheritageawardsandmissheritagenigeriapageant


National Heritage Award & Miss Heritage Nigeria 2014

Promoting cultural heritage

Miss Heriatge Nigeria Audition Starts TODAY!

Remember a classy car, an executive scholarship in Pan Atlantic University schools (eithe LBS or SMC) plus a year's salary, phone calls(and phone), hair do, makeup and lots more awaits the winner. And u cud also contest to dress, makeup or make beads 4a contestant n win startup accessories and cash prizes plus GET NOTICED BY MILLIONS!

2day's audition is at The Dover Hotel, plot 10, 16 Olubunmi Owa Street, Lekki phase 1, VI by 11am. Be there!

Win Big in Miss Heritage Nigeria 2014

Be the team that costumed the winner of Miss Heritage Nigeria 2014

Don't just get the fame associated with it but also get

 Upcoming fashion designers: free materials and a year's scholarship to a well known fashion sch or a year internship at a prestigious fashion house like Kinabuti

Upcoming makeup artist: free make up palette worth thousands/scholarship to study theatrical make up at a prestigious make up school like Tara

Upcoming bead maker: free accessories and training to start up your business with a prestigious school like Oma

Don't dream about it, call 08023407497 or edzentertainment@gmail.com for how to be part of this competition.  

Opened to only upcoming designers/students.

U can also contest as Miss Heritage Nigeria and win an executive scholarship to Pan Atlantic University, a class car from Kia,a years salary, free calls and lots more

To partake in the designers competition, pay N25000 as a team made up of d 3artists or N10000 as an individual

To partake as a contestant, pay N2500 (audition starts ds wkend in Lagos)If u just want to exhibite ur craft then pay N5000 and call or mail us

Pay to Caires Grooming agency, GTBank 0106512813 and make sure you email your picture and scanned teller to edzentertainment@gmail.com and we'll get in touch.

@MissHeritageNig@Crabiet@EDZ_ng

Get a Classy Car FREE

Win a classy car as Miss Heritage Nigeria 2014!

It's not about 5"11 or a model shape its abt intelligence n cultural relevance. With jst N2500, u can become d Queen
other exciting prizes are

A year's salary
A year's make-up, hair-do n official outfits
An executive scholarship @ Pan Atlantic University (LBS school)
And lots more

Log into www.missheritagenigeria.org and download ur form Now!

It's all about culture

Miss Heritage Nigeria 2014 - Form is Out

Hello beautiful and intelligent ladies,

•       The National Heritage Awards & Miss Heritage Nigeria Beauty Pageant is an event which Promotes and awards the African and Nigerian cultural heritage.

•       It is intended to showcase the positive and beneficial aspects of African and Nigerian cultural heritage outside what is portrayed in most international media as a continent bedeviled with famine, deadly diseases, natural disasters, political instabilities, economic profligacy and dependence.

•       Showcasing Nigeria’s rich Cultural Heritage such as: Language, Marriage rites, Burial rites, Birth rites, Dressing, Greetings, Music, Folklore and Religions as well as other Cultural Monuments, Natural Sites and Cultural Landscapes that are scattered within the diverse Ethnic Naturalization. 

•       Awarding the promotion of this cultural heritage both in the pageantry and in the award section. There by promoting and creating awareness for Nigeria and Africa as a whole.

•       The event’s aim and mission is to become a Globally awarded event

Please find attached application form for Miss Heritage Nigeria 2014; the same can also be downloaded from the website, www.missheritagenigeria.com.

Application Process:

Step 1: Make Payment at any GT Bank branch, the sum of N2,500.

  Account Name: Caries Grooming Agency.

  Acct No: 0106512813.

Step 2:   Download the Application form here: Download application Form  / or fill the attached form     Step 3: Attach the Bank Teller to the Forms and bring them along with you to the Audition Venue, and confirm undersigned about deposit made in the bank. NB: in case you convince your university colleagues/ eligible friends to participate in this contest and they eventually deposit the requisite money in the bank, you will be entitled for N 500 per person. All the Best, Suziette

Be Our Queen’s Fashion Hero - Call 4 entry

Call for Entry – Fashion Designers, Make-up and Accessory makers

It’s Miss Heritage Nigeria 2014 Fashion Meets Culture!

We are calling on upcoming fashion designers, make-up artist and accessory makers to partake in this year’s pageant.

36 contestants will be up to take the crown as the epitome of Nigeria’s beauty and you might be the famous fashion designers to cloth that Queen to stardom.

All you need to do is, form a group (a fashion designer, a make-up artist and accessory designer) then pay N25,000 as a group into Caries Grooming Agency 0106512813, GTBank.

Then send your group name, a phone number, teller number and 3 pictures of your jobs together to edzentertainment@gmail.com

After which you go on twitter and follow

@MissHeritageNig

then tweet ‘your group name, a number (between 1-36) and tag #MissHeritageNg2014’ with ur best pix together.

e.g DoroCouture 5 #MissHeritageNg2014

Next, get your fans retweeting your tweet. The more they tweet, the more your group is noticed

End of submission: 3^rd of August, 2014

Successful groups will be contacted and a contestant, assigned to them.

Note: On the catwalk, each member of the group’s outfit will be mentioned and not the initial group name formed. This is to help promote your individual outfits.

You can also contest alone by paying N10, 000 to the above account and follow the same method only this time, you don’t have to form a group name but just your outfit name.

 Cultural relevance.Historical brilliance. Creative designs.

Weirdos

A swirl, a twist, a pain

Striking hard to comprehend the beginning

An end never envisaged as it strolls by

Newness never experienced when it all starts

Difference always anticipated as it rolls n

We are who we are

Specie made by an unknown God

Different in thoughts, action and words

Always in the move to make a difference

Never succumbing to the norm

We are what we never say we are

A breed known to none

Excitingly different in delivery

Controlling the world and all its happening

Bringing about disruptive changes that breeds a new era

Always pensive, always creative

Never understood

Never too loved

Never hated too

Lady Wanderer

It’s not so hard you see

Sometimes it seems the world is choking

The race I run is swift you know

Not a job, not a walk, in strides I get captured in the moment

Waking up to newness that elopes with speed

Gaining momentum faster than ‘seconds’

I realized so much earlier

The alien within called me

It was frightening wild and fun

I unleashed her little by little

Never getting captured by the world

But letting her capture the world

Was difficult coming to terms you get

But she has always believed so much in herself

Difficult ruling a world different from her

Yet she never folded or succumbed

Step by step they took

Stride by stride she rode

Riding the world beneath her feet, gaining attention

Sucking adventure losing nothing but opposites

Terms she don’t understand, norms were a taboo

Something different she knew

Something new always she stood

Sometimes she feels lost

Sometimes she feels dead

But it don’t stop her from being HER

A loner in this race, a loner always!

The END

Never an end but the start of something new

Limited by time and space in your brain

How well you dream is how well you reverse an end

How well you stand is how well you accept a fall

Nothing goes for nothing and nothing ever will

Embrace self defeat and the enemy within

Welcome criticism and the lies we tell ourselves

Only then will we progress

And turn an end to a beginning

New faith in one self

New belief in the order of the world

I am AKPOMEJEVWE – I do love my world

I am the master of my soul

The captain of my ship!

One Fine Day 10

As day dey begin break na Josh wake me, i opened myself eyes to behold the most beautiful piece of jewellery starring in my face, i smiled as he said: its been 2months, we should celebrate and do something special" instanta a ll thoughts of moving away from these potential pscho fly comot, instead , i took him in my arms with warm embrace and major romping follow. hmmm, people of these wicked world, i should i have left, but chose to stay.

 na so i carry myself go make hair, i decided to add a bit of life to the hair, so i went blond and the moment Josh saw it, regardless of the fact that his members of staff were with him he said to me in the most icy words: 

"Jazz, you look like a prostitute and i  don't date prostitutes" 

to so shock hol me, des no justice to describing how i felt. i stood stare for quite sometime starring at him, when he said rather casually: 

"in a meeting babe" 

i went into the room and cried my eyes out. did  he notice.. nah!  th tears words me out,i slept off.

he woke me later to say we were going to the club with some friend, he wanted them to see me, again 

he said: but this hair of yours, find a creative way to style, so it doesn't look tacky"

again, i swallowed the insults and quietly went about creatively styling and packing the hair to his taste.  he gave a wide smile of approval when i joined him the car, i thought,  maybe the night would erase the day's hurt. he was in a pretty jolly mood as he kept necking and kissing me, he even made calls to his friends that they were to meet his woman.

until my phone rang… it was X

 i tried to ignore the call, but Josh noticed and insisted that i pick up the call and i did, that was my major mezzup!

X launched into the monologue of how i abandoned him and all, i listened silently, choosing my words rather wisely. by this time, the car had stopped and Josh was having a conversation with a friend, i thought he wasn't listening, so when X asked where i was, i said:

i'm with a friend" we ended the conversation with goodnights and a "please call me" from X.

Josh smiled back at me and said he was gonna join his friend's car. At the club, his coldness became even more obvious, as i was never introduced to the friends he wanted to show me off to. was it the hair? i rush go check am for toilet. he just totally abandoned me at the club with a bottle of wine begging eagerly to be open. after 3 hours of ZERO clubbing, he appeared and asked if i was ready to go. before nko. i enter moto, we reach house, na dis drama start.

my people wetin my eye see, wetin my ear hear chai, disris godu ooo. 

The Filters 17

   There was that faint scent of an antiseptic, it sifted through the air like a light fog, just enough to be perceived, not enough to be a problem. Ruth stared aloof at the desk before, it was neatly arranged, a mug with the words "Best Dad in the world" printed round, an impressive collection of Pens and Pencils stood withing the mug and a stack of medical books sat by their side. A Sticker saying "Got Blood, Share!" was plastered on the middle of the table. She could feel her right hand vibrate mildly, her fiance was obviously impatient and showing it. Just as she was about to to turn to her unattended intended life partner, the Doctor walked in.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting, we had an emergency." He said, lifting the stethoscope off his neck as though it was a noose.

"No, don't mention it, it's alright, not like we had anything better to do." Adrien Aswani said with as much contempt as he could muster.

The Doctor took one look at him, sat and smiled. "Still licking our wounds I see, don't worry, we'll show em hell next season, I still have faith in Rooney."

Adrien leaned forward as though he'd found gold within a struck rock. " Did you see our defense last week...." Ruth drifted off again, as her Fiance conversed with the doctor at length about the ins and outs of professional football.

Finally, after about 15 minutes, Adrien sighed and The Doctor pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his face.

" Thanks darling, for ignoring me."

"Your welcome babe." Adrien replied with a wink.

" Don't worry, you'll have full monopoly of his attention when the baby gets here." The Doctor offered.

"Or maybe they'll both run off to some pitch somewhere and leave me in the kitchen."

The men laughed.

"So how can I help you?" The doctor asked.

"Well, we've come to see if we're blood compatible."

"Alright..." he brought out two identical files from his desk and handed it to them. "Fill these forms, afterwards we'll run a series of tests and get back to you, do you have pens?"

They nodded and took the files.

"Okay, looks easy enough" Ruth stated. And her fiance looked at her with the boyish smile she had grown fond of.

"Everything's easy with me babe, don't you ever forget it." He said.

And the doctor smiled, because seated before him, he saw a couple that was in love.

  

  Seun looked at the luminescent screen of his phone, still no call, still no message. He'd left numerous of both on Naomi's cell, apparently she wasn't in the business of reciprocated attention, it unsettled him even more because that used to be him. The elusive lover, the quick and certain flash in the night that never returned, now he felt out of place. He'd lost his best friend, things had become precarious at work, and he was becoming overly attached to a girl that was now ignoring him. It seemed his world had turned upside down, and there was no soft bed of roses to fall upon. He looked at the Trophies that stood on his shelf, how could he have fallen so low? He moped for what seemed like hours till a familiar tune broke the silence.

"Hey Jesse what's up?" he said, he sounded like he needed a glass of water.

"We need to talk" Jesse said matter of factly.

"Why what's up?"

"Just come, The Amala Joint, 30 minutes."

The line cut.

Seun slipped the phone in his pocket and threw on a Jacket, he grabbed his key off a shelf and made for the door. A thought stopped him though. On what occasions had he heard Jesse speak so sparsely, so monotonously, so covertly excited?. His troubled mind was unable to sift out an answer but he reached into his shelf anyway and pulled out his weapon. The steely gun against his waist offered the needed comfort and made all questions unnecessary.

The 22 minute drive to the location code name 'The Amala Joint' was a tranquil one, pedestrian songs blended, one into the other but they were a suitable background to the silence that hung in his mind like a curtain on a wind less day. He'd barely packed his car when a shadow engulfed his window. He stepped out of the car.

"What's all the hush hush.."

"Let's go in. " Jesse said without establishing eye contact, another bad sign.

They stepped into the dark warehouse, Crates full of Client details were stacked on either side, and the path between led to a table, with a chair on either side, he'd only ever seen it once. He'd brought a nervous client, without as much a clue as the address as to what was about to happen. Upon delivering the client, Jesse had offered him a cursory smile, and led them both down that very same path, he hadn't been perturbed then, but he could hear the ragged breaths of the client, when they reached the table, Mr.Stanley was sitting on the further most side, with a cup of coffee and a polite smile. Mr.Stanley rose to his feet, shook the client and asked him to please sit, then he made a quick "shoo" motion with his hand.   

Jesse took the hint, and led Seun back out, and he never knew, what had conspired inside the warehouse afterwards, but it seemed he would soon find out.

A drooping bulb hung over the table like an old man's testicles, it was more of an emphasis of the darkness that surrounded it than anything else. At first Seun thought it was just his imagination and the lighting playing tricks on him when he saw the suit, but then he saw that very same smile that caused creases by the sides of Mr.Stanley's eyes and he didn't wait for a handshake, he simply sat as a man facing the death penalty on the electric chair.

The Filters 16

Everyone in the know was seated at the table. The Agents, the Supervisors, the Technicians, the figure heads. They all sat, in desperate silence, staring at the device on the center of the table. Naomi was growing impatient, she didn't understand why it was taking so long, Mr.Stanley should've been at work by then. She was also irritated because she was in the last place she wanted to be, she could feel Charles stare burn into the side of her face and it was unsettling. For so long he had kept her at arms length, even when she was overt about her feelings, even when he was low and and needed an ear, he never said enough, he was like a conceited onion, shedding off layer after layer of superficial insight. Now something was different, he'd shown more than platonic care, jealousy even. Slowly his concrete facade had started to crack, and now his emotions were running away with him, and he couldn't seem to stop them. Now he chose to reveal the feelings were mutual, now when for the first time, they didn't seem to be. Of course to Mr. Charles this wasn't the case. To him Naomi was being difficult, a child stuck in her ways, he hadn't meant to fall for her, in fact he hadn't, he simply stood at the edge looking down into the depths and feeling the gravity tugging at his shoulders. He knew one day he'd regret bringing her into the fold of crime fighting, it was like a looming storm, first came the bruises of physical training, then came the cynicism of orientation, slowly her innocence had wilted, till all that was left was a crisp and deft human weapon. He would have to talk to her after the mission was over, he was certain her remaining with The Eagle wasn't in her best interest, or his.

"Well, are you sure you placed the device securely?" Asked Mr. Crawford calmly, his white goatee had gone unstroked so far, he'd spent too much time at these sort of things to be perturbed, but he was like Naomi, impatient.

" Yes sir, I'm certain, this isn't the first...." Mr. Ojo started with a hint of hurt in his voice.

"I don't question your expertise Mr. Ojo, your our most trusted field agent, if you hadn't been on the Aswani case we would've put this case in your sturdy hands, in the first place, but this is an unprecedented situation, and we must be thorough, so I'll ask again, and a Yes or No answer will suffice. Did you securely place the recording device?"

"Yes...sir."

The silence returned, and with it discomfort, impatience and doubt festered.

"What kind of name is Naomi Campbell anyway?." asked Jude seething with contempt.

Jesse clipped a smile, and Mr. Stanley  stirred his coffee.

"I mean, if I were an undercover agent I'd pick a less unusual name." Jesse added.

"Like Jesse Ibru?" Mr. Stanley asked picking up his coffee. He waited for a reply he knew was not forthcoming then he let the bitterness slither through his lips, this was no time for jokes.

A moment passed, to Jesse an eternity.

"So, what do we do now?" asked Jude sitting up.

"Well by now they're probably wondering what became of the device they placed in my office, let's give them something to listen to shall we?"

   There was a creak, then a soft thud, someone was walking into the office. Everyone leaned forward and Naomi unraveled her legs. Mr. Stanley had only been tardy after all, the little green light on the device flickered with each sound; the tapping of feet, the rolling tires of chairs, the calm breathing, the clock ticking, it was an advanced piece of technology.

"So, you've done it once again?." came Mr.Stanley's voice from the miniature speakers.

Mr. Crawford and Mr.Charles exchanged a giddy glance.

Next came a sigh and Jude's booming voice. "It had to be done Mr. Stanley, I'm sorry. "

"Its all right."

There was a long pause, and Mr. Ojo used it to wipe the sweat dancing on the tip of his nose.

"Have you heard from him yet?" Mr. Stanley asked.

"No, but I understand his predicament, I mean it's hard enough serving as a double agent, but now he's got to deal with the fact that we're under investigation, we've gotta cut him some slack."

A pause.

"Charles has been good to us , his had us covered for the past 8 years ! If his keeping quiet, I guess there's a good reason." Mr.Stanley asserted retrospectively.

Mr. Crawford looked confounded at Mr.Charles who was transitioning from an agape mouth to gnashed teeth.

"Yes Da..i mean Mr.Stanley."

There was another pause, then the shifting of a chair as someone got up to leave. The door slammed and all who listened befuddled, to the device , were treated to the sounds of shuffling paper and intermittent sniffing for the next ten minutes, it seemed they would continue like this, till Mr.Ojo sprang up from his sit like a needle had pricked him and slapped his palm against the table.

"He betrayed us!"

"You will still you're tongue!" said Mr.Crawford rising like lava in a stirring volcano. Turning to Mr.Charles he added. "You better have a good explanation for this" then returned to his sit.

Mr. Charles looked around at the people he'd had the opportunity of calling colleagues, each and everyone of them looked upon him as though he was a stranger. He knew the mess he was in, he knew clearing his name would be an herculean task, but in that moment, he felt his resolve slip away from him like an early childhood memory, his tongue dried up and  he swallowed his pride down a ragged throat, and with it, his eyes crumbled to the burden of guilt. He rose slowly to his feet and left them there, and he knew, with that single act he had practically confessed to a crime he did not commit.