He smells like rain
by
Damilola
I try not to post more than 4 times a month…But this month has been good. I can’t say anything […]
It is True
by
Damilola
A bird sat by my window this morning, Singing “It is true, It is true” It is true. We gather innocent […]
One Ordinary Day
by
Damilola
One ordinary day Late for work again Ran out with my shirt inside out Stepped in puddles the rain had […]
We were children
by
Damilola
Remember when we were children? Give or take between 1 and 7 years of age. Life was easy; even if […]
The Ghost of Christmas Past
by
Damilola
Another Christmas alone. I had hoped that this year would be different. I had prayed that this would be Christmas […]
Blood on my hands
by
Damilola
Most people ask why most my stories are set around Igbo characters…especially as i am a Yoruba girl who […]
Memory
by
Damilola
Memory cheats. In this game called life, memory knows it has the upper hand. And so it waits till it […]
Time flies
by
Damilola
My bosom used to be his resting place My belly his hideaway Time flies And with it blows away […]
6am Feeding
by
Damilola
The phone rings. I have been staring at it for the past two hours, willing it to ring. I called […]
