THE CAROL EVENING: SOMETHING HAPPENED TO MY HEART THAT I DONT UNDERSTAND
The sun was receding to the horizon as Marcel strolled to St.John’s at Ezenwa avenue. It was yet another Carol evening, of course it was the harmattan season, when dry leaves and twigs were strewn everywhere, when lips were parched and cracked,when the brown dust created a blurry film on the outstretched roads,when the early mornings felt so chilly and windy,when Vaseline became a duty.
It was on this particular day,he strolled to church, a mighty edifice of a building with its ashy grey roof, long pews and beautiful chandeliers. He was in his hometown,Akokwa,for the Christmas break and was determined to enjoy it to the fullest. He rounded a bend and walked straight into the vast church compound. He was rather too early as the choristers were not yet present. He unlocked the screen of his tablet and busied himself with the many pictures in the gallery. Nearby,a group of children were running around,playing without restraint, chocolate-coloured smudges on their dresses.
He was about to stand up to go outside when a stunningly beautiful damsel walked in.His eyes wide with wonder and his mouth agape, he stared sheepishly. Suddenly it seemed the world stood still.In all his life,never had he set his eyes on such ravishing beauty. She stood up elegantly and walked outside as if conscious that his eyes were on her.Her gait reminded him of the Egyptian princesses.
Marcel sauntered out,flashing his Mr.Cool smile, he was going to talk to her.He saw her under the pear tree sitting alone and looking lonely. This was the best time for him but timidity gripped him,making his heart thump furiously. He stood there, rehearsing what to say,the best way to introduce himself when she began to walk towards the church gate in calm strides. “What an angel”, he muttered. Her terracotta-complexioned skin had the shiniest,smoothest sheen,her nose well proportioned with those small lips that curved perfectly, her face,the lush,creamy shine of an egg.Marcel longed to touch it,to feel it.Her eyes held the world hostage with a startling symmetry to her features: that perfectly curved hips and those well rounded globes called backsides.
Marcel was so enthralled, he began to walk up to her,with nervousness heavy in his chest… To be continued.
Written by Chinedu Victor