Photo credits:
Photo credits:

It was sorely lacking in Kiru’s life. Stuck with her near-predictable boyfriend and mundane job, she often wished that excitement would creep up and bite her in the ass, just this once.
She decided to spend Independence Day on her own. She went to a corner of the Old Market that she’d never been to, staring shamelessly in shop windows. Her breath caught in her chest when she saw them.
Red shoes. Stiletto heels. Sexy. Sophisticated.
She had to have them.
Whatever price the saleswoman insisted on, Kiru was willing to pay. Even if it meant whipping out all three of her ATM cards. It was love, and money was a small price to pay for love this strong.
She smiled when the lady accepted her offer of N6,000.
“Someone just dropped this bag here o. Hope you don’t mind if I use it for you?”
Kiru didn’t mind, so long as the ownership of the lovely red shoes went undisputed.
She walked over to the park just behind the market to people-watch. There were picnicking families in their dozens, sugar-crazed kids running all over the place.
Dodging sharply to evade one such creature, she lost her balance and watched as her bags emptied onto the grass. Cursing softly, she bent to pick up the mess.
There was a piece of paper in the plastic bag. It wasnt’t a receipt. Maybe it belonged to the customer who’d taken it to the shop? The noise around her faded into the background as she read.

For my mystery girl in a haystack:

I kiss you
and I drown.

Wandering, lost
in memories unformed.

Dead to the world,
alive only to your touch.

Unforgivably, irrevocably,
Oh, so helplessly,

Underneath was a phone number. Kiru smiled, rushing home to get her phone.




4 thoughts on “Red

Add yours

Leave a Reply to Kiru Taye Cancel reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Powered by

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: