It happened last night, like a burst of colours on clear canvas. It was only a matter of time, before it happened. From that first day I saw you at the counter serving coffee – your black skin so dark it shone, your hair pulled the side of your head in a proud Afro, your lips lined red. I knew then that I was in trouble, that we were star-crossed lovers.

So I had turned away, counting to ten to see if the raging sea inside me would ebb. But your eyes caught mine, travelled down to my crotch and assessed the growing bulge there. Then you threw your head back in challenge. In that moment, I could not contain myself. I forgot my commitment to my therapist. I forgot that jail is a cold hard place and that I’d vowed not to go back there.

At first I thought it would be easy, that you’d be a naive prey. In my experience, girls in your position, serving girls, usually were. But you proved to be adept at this dance. Each day as I stalked you, leaving work early to sit in your dirty cafe, drinking lukewarm coffee with fried meat, you showed me that you were the boss. You’d lean in to pour my coffee, your ample blossom in my face.  You’d ask me, “Is your meat too hard?” “Do you need me to help you get it soft again?”  Your voice leaving no illusion as to what meat you were referring to.

The prey thought it was the predator. You were as clueless as a novice playing chess with a grand master, and last week when you agreed to visit me at home, you lost.

Yesterday night, before you came, I prayed. Because even though I wasn’t sure, I felt that the anticipation of such pleasure must definitely be a sin. So I prayed for absolution. I also prayed for self-control, because this thing lodged in my midriff threatened to burst. That prayer wasn’t answered, because when you stepped in I could not stop myself. I found the knife digging into your neck and the blood flowing freely.

Your cry, like a strangled bear, set something free in my soul. I found myself shouting, “Hallelujah!”


Picture Credit: Caleb Ekeroth

This story emerged in 8th position in the 2017 edition of the JB Afenfia Flash Fiction Contest

Written by : Michael Afenfia

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  1. […] Halelujah! by Chizoma Emeka Joshua […]

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