Well, I finished working on a short story not too long ago. It's developing a life of its own & may evolve into a novella or something, not quite sure at this time. Anyway, below is a short extract. Wonder what you make of it. Enjoy!!
“Chief Tayo Adesina will be at a secret meeting in Ilorin at exactly eleven twenty a.m. on Monday, that’s four days from today. You’ll be there, waiting for him. Immediately he steps out of his car, shoot him, make sure he’s dead before you leave,” he said to me.
“The Lagos based politician?” I queried. He nodded. I laughed derisively. “He’s very popular, always in the newspapers. Politicians like him usually have thugs and policemen as bodyguards. Do you think I’ll get away with it?”
He smiled faintly and adjusted his black kufi cap. He brushed some specks of sand off his middle-aged, sagely face and white dashiki. We sat beside each other in deck chairs on a sandy, white beach. A few metres before us, the waves of the sea lapped the shore gently. There was a large thatched hut behind us. Birds flew high above us, chirping happily. His black trousers swayed with the soft breeze, as did the three tall coconut trees standing firmly on the tiny island of white sand close to the shore. I wore a grey T-shirt, blue shorts and black slippers. The setting sun gave his dark skin a healthy glow.
“Yes, Bayo, my boy, he has bodyguards, but he’ll be alone.” He leaned forward and stared intently at me through his thick glasses. His clear eyes had an unreal luminescence that was accentuated by the bright sheen of his full cheeks. I averted his disconcerting gaze.
“I won’t do it! I’ve never killed anybody in my life. Adesina is a complete stranger to me and so are you. He has done nothing wrong to me.”
“I knew you would say that. You have to do it! They’ve picked you. Ten million, eighty thousand naira will be deposited into your GT Bank account today. You will get another ten million when you’ve finished him off. Eighty thousand is for your travel expenses. Your wedding’s in two months. You need the money. You’ve never had that much to yourself before,” he said with a merry chuckle. “Do it and you’ll never suffer again. Give your fiancée the best wedding you can, start your own practice.”
I rose indignantly to my feet, irritated by the conversation. “I don’t kill people! I know better. I’m a lawyer –”
“A poor, struggling lawyer about to marry a doctor who’s earning more than you,” he interrupted. “She understands now but will she when the kids start coming? She’ll be the one with the balls. No true African man should live with a woman who earns more because she’ll progressively neuter him as the years go by, trust me.” He roared with laughter.
I stumped off in the direction of the hut. His words had struck my sensitive core. After I had taken a few steps, my slippers started to transform into white sand. I stood rooted to the spot, thoroughly shocked.
My feet copied my slippers. I tried to dislodge myself, but the harder I tried, the faster the transformation progressed up my body, accompanied by great pain. I began to scream. When it got to my navel, he rose from his chair and walked over to me. He stood tall and rotund.
“Like I said, you’ll be neutered if you don’t do it,” he warned. He walked to the hut.
“Please help me!” I screamed at him.
“Help yourself, my boy. Only you can,” he said as he disappeared into the hut. The dissolution of my body continued up to my neck.
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