Bachelorette Diaries, Wk40; 2012

11:00 p.m.,


I left work early partly because I was freaking out and partly because I was too wired to work, that and the fact that I had a novel idea and I wanted to outline it.

By the way, ‘Miser and Miseries’ is almost over. I am finishing up the final editing while I await feedback from the girls. I asked them to read it and tell me what they think. Nothing helps a novelist than getting feedback from a discerning friend, better if you have a set of three friends.

So, the idea I had was for a romance novel, I already have a publisher in mind, DrumBeats romance, and I have the working title – ‘Love Hurdles’.

It had been one hell of a day. The editor-in-chief Yedioth Ahronoth, Kenya had been AWOL for the past week and he reported for work today. Turned out he had grabbed a flight to Israel to have a chat with dad. When he went to his office looking as though he had been on a holiday on the Bahamas and had been laid the whole time, he summoned me.

Yeah, he summoned me. Technically, he works for me if what dad told me is anything to go by. Nonetheless, I found myself ascending the staircase to ‘heaven’. That’s what who’s not who in Yedioth Ahronoth, Kenya calls his office. I know this because I’ve planted moles in the junior staff to feed me with the underworld intel that bosses in any organization have no access to, like the names they go by in the subordinate staff fraternity. As you can guess by now, the editor-in-chief is ‘Thy God who art in heaven’.

After the not-so-friendly pleasantries that I made sure he felt the resentment for what he’d done to me the previous week vibrating from every inch of my body, he said “As you by now know I was in Israel, I met with our people there. They are disappointed in you” before I could say “and to what do I owe this dubious pleasure.”

“You need to be kept on a tight leash,” he continued.

“What?” I was shocked. He had just called me a stray bitch. Or aren’t leashes meant for dogs? I opened my mouth to say something nasty to my boss whom I was (technically) his boss.

“You need to man up, Shiri,” he said. Right, my boss had just told me to grow up. In another life I would’ve preferred to be told to woman up.

‘Our People’ in Israel were disappointed in me. I was not only co-operating and associating with them; I was also abdicating my responsibility. That, according to ‘Our People’, was treason.

“I can’t believe I am hearing this.”

“Yes you are,” he said.

“And ‘our people’ told you to threaten me?”

“We don’t issue threats. You’ve been warned.”

“Why am I a threat to ‘our people’?” I asked sarcastically.

“Your father wanted me to talk to you. It is for your good, Shiri.”

“What are you now, his son?”

“For once, listen to what you are being told. Your father has given so much for this, and you can’t jeopardize that. You have to co-operate…”

“Or else what?” I took a deep breath and gave him the look that said ‘you kidding?’ Well, I would have just told him to “Go fuck yourself”, not meaning for him to go to CrocoDildo and buy a fleshlight.

Without saying a word, and feeling toasted, I rose to go without saying more.

Hardly was my hand on the doorknob when he called me and stopped me on my tracks.

“Two more things, Shiri.”


“Father Frank. Tell your friend to stop what she’s doing. She does not want to be involved in it. It’s a quicksand.”

“And the second…”

“Major Sang. You have to break up with him.”

That’s what freaked me.
Copyright ©Elove, 2013.


Read more of my poems on Triond

Read more on my poems, and more, on Poetic Justness

Read my articles on Wikinut and NaijaStories


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