The Bride Who Murdered Her Groom: A Stories Collection

Beautiful and sharp-witted, Sophia Solochi—blamelessly eighteen—understands that she must not ever fall in love. If she does, any peculiar man she has adored will not live what will befall him. In unquestionable words, he will die. Fast. Surely. And frightfully. Why would he perish, you may marvel? Sophia, also true with her female descent, is cursed. Any lad whom she falls for is destined to yield up his ghost in her very own arms and care. When she moves with her mother to Brownton to begin a fresh and unimpaired life, far away from their ancient calamities and sorrows, the worst things imaginable happen to them. Sophia cannot resist falling in love with Alex Ramirez, a strikingly handsome but in-a-short-time to-be Engineering postgraduate at Brownton University. Here, whilst pursuing a Fashion and Designing degree, she furtively repeats the self-same pursuit and engagement that effected insufferable agony and bitterness in her bygone days. Falling in love is extremely perilous, she

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6. The Kelpies' Tale

I opposed to having sex with Alex. And boy, did I regret it—you may wonder—later on? I didn’t. It was the best decision that I had ever made. Yes. Sleeping with him might have wrecked and shattered things for us too soon. It might have imperiled and jeopardized our relationship what’s more. Which I did not want to see come about.

 

Without saying any word, Alex got up and walked out of the room, leaving me sitted still and quietly all by myself. What? Had I done anything wrong in saying ‘no’ to making love with him here in Maxwell’s lodging? Was there anything strange and out of the ordinary with that? Was there?

 

I bit my lip, scowling and rolling my eyes sleeplessly and uneasily. What had I just done? Damn it!

 

 

He turned back into the room a while later. He seemed self-possessed and collected, unlike when he had left looking provoked and furious. Was that what men always did when you felt like not doing anything sexual- related with them? Was that how they behaved and reacted to a woman’s negative response? Was that it?

 

I pursed my lips in fury in return and stared away from him. He sat down next to me and took my hand in his, going on to caress and fondle my arm gently and smoothly. “Look, Sophia, I am sorry,” he muttered lowly. “It was unthinking and stupid of me to suggest that to you. We can consider doing it another time. I am sorry. Do you understand?”

 

I stared at him and softened my hard and bitter expression. “I get it.”

 

“Smile for me, baby, will you?”

 

I forced myself to do it.

 

That intensely pleased him and had him smiling back and laughing quietly to himself. “Have you forgiven me now?”

 

“Yes, baby, I have.”

 

Wow! My first time calling him ‘baby’! Hurray! That was absolutely fantastic and hilarious. What an agreeing and fitting love pair we were slowly but assuredly becoming!

 

Late that afternoon, we walked and strolled our way freely and eagerly in the still lounging park at the university. There were a countless high-reaching trees with benches and students settled on them beneath, as well as some who were lounging down on neat and sullied pieces of cloth enjoying their picnic and relaxation.

 

“This is nice,” I notified Alex as we advanced our way steadily and unhurriedly.

 

He looked mildly at me. “I am pleased to hear that you like it out here.”

 

“I definitely do; I wish I could spend the rest of my life in a quiet and unoccupied place like this one.”

 

“You do?”

 

“I very much do.”

 

He giggled lightsomely. “Would you like to watch the sun set with me here in this quiet and trouble-free fortress?”

 

“They say never say never.”

 

“Which I must take for a ‘yes’, right?”

 

“Precisely.”

 

 

Having stopped and overlooking me, he stretched out his hand to me, and I took it immediately and readily. He then led me away into the mass and assemblage of trees, well-manneredly and courtly.

 

Alex and I watched the sun sink down the sky with circumspect and wary eyes. It was a lovely scene and sighting. Lovely like eyeing the roses as they bloom and sprawl to life, clothed and in every way imaginable endowed with naturally-attired belle and comeliness. Alex inclined his back against a tree, his legs stretched out and extended, and I sat down calmly and carefully so as to lean and place myself over his powerfully-built chest. He had his hands wrapped and intertwined across my chest.

 

Everything here was beautiful. The sighting of the setting sun above, the collecting of trees enclosing us, the people who were settled and walking not very far away from us, the birds twittering and caroling in the elevated trees. It was all blissful and blithe-filled.

 

“Alex?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“What is your talent?”

 

“My talent?”

 

“You heard me right.”

 

“Painting and art.”

 

I breathed out.

 

“Why did you ask?”

 

“I was wondering if you would be able to paint me myself and the setting sun above me on an exquisite place like this one. Can you be able to accomplish that?”

 

“I sure can. When would you want me to fulfill this promise?”

 

“I don’t know. When do you think that you can do it?”

 

“Next Sunday, I should say.”

 

“Fine then.”

 

“That is all you want?”

 

“For now, yes, it is.”

 

“Ocke-doke.”

 

By nine thirty, I was home. Kris would be back home in an hour from now or so. I didn’t cook anything. No. At that wedding where she had attended, she must surely have furnished and

 

 

gorged herself with all varieties of food imaginable. There was no point in cooking for her…or myself either. I ate the pizza and drank the coke that I had brought with me home and then quickly cleaned up the mess I had left this morning and washed myself in the bathroom lastly to put on clean and pink- colored pajamas. It was preferable to have Kris find me on the brink of retiring to bed, which is what precisely happened.

 

Phew! I was tired like heck and strengthless like an overworked donkey when Kris got back home at spot-on ten to eight. I exchanged a few greeting words and kindly smiles and dearest hugs with her before I eventually stepped my way off into my room to collapse and pass out on my bed. Not passing out as in fainting. But passing out as in dropping off to sleep and dreaming and snoring—who knew if I snored or not. I didn’t!

 

Monday morning came quickly and unexpectedly. I had a lot to do on that particular day. Scrubbing floors and polishing them, unpacking loads and piles of cardboard boxes, installing gigantic-sized picture frames to the walls in the hallway or passages, washing four kilograms weighted clothes in the washing machine, then purifying and purging the dirt-stained dishes from the other night that were piled and amassed up in the sink, then scrub spotless the bath tub and toilet and kitchen sink and stove and cabinets, then go to the market and buy three-days worth of vegetables and relish and groceries. There was so much more to this. Kris tended and worked on the vegetable garden, then planted flowers and watered them with the utility of a horse-pipe, then set up and framed and painted in consummate white our wooden fence, then cut the overgrown and enormous hedge on the other side of our house, then climbed up on the shabby roof of our house and swept and cleaned it, then unpacked to pack and arrange nicely the stuff and things in her own room. It was a heavy and tiresome day to each one of the two of us. It surely and unquestionably was.

 

While we had lunch in our small-sized dining room, she proposed, “How about us going shopping this afternoon, sweetheart? What do you say?”

 

I sighed out from frustration and exhaustion. “I am so tired and jaded, mother.”

 

“Come on, it will be fine and enjoyable, I promise.”

 

“Really?”

 

“I give my word. You have not more than ten reasonable-priced items to pick.”

 

Never say never, remember. Taking to mind this statement, I did not say ‘no’ or ‘never’ to the clothes shopping program. It sure was the hell lot of fun just like Kris promised. I enjoyed every little bit of it. Yes, I did! We left in Kris’ red-colored Nissan Dultex. Four-doored with headlights and taillights that could be unsheathed or sheathed and manufactured to brag a speed limit of three hundred miles per hour. Inside the car, Kris sat in black jeans and a zebra-like stripped top and a loose and very thick jacket and black canvas shoes and I myself on the other hand was attired in a scarlet dress that extended slightly above my knees. Enwrapping my feet were white and strapped high-heels.

 

The Nissan sped swiftly and nimbly. Kris tuned on the radio and put on sunglasses over her eyes, ones that were dark brown in color—an ideal match and correspondence to her brown hair. She fetched a bar of chocolate from her handbag and handed it over to me.

 

 

“Thanks,” I mouthed out and ate it rapaciously. Chocolate was my favorite. “We haven’t talked much about how Christopher Mwaba’s wedding went yesterday, or have we?”

 

 

 

 

 

“Thanks,” I mouthed out and ate it rapaciously. Chocolate was my favorite. “We haven’t talked much about how Christopher Mwaba’s wedding went yesterday, or have we?”

 

She glanced at me momentarily. “No, we have not.”

 

“How did things go there?”

 

“Fine. A scandal occurred as we were about to split up back to our diverging homes.”

 

“What sort of scandal?”

 

“It had a lot to do with Matildah—Christopher’s bride, I do mean. Some skinny and senseless-looking young man showed up just after they had wedded and claimed to be her prior and most recent boyfriend. He threatened that Christopher shouldn’t marry her on grounds that she was carrying his pregnancy, which she was presently planning to miscarry or abort. The man was so angry and fierce-looking that he almost threw every little bit of thing lodged on the tables down to the floor.”

 

“Too bad. Anyway was everything he said true and genuine?”

 

“He couldn’t prove a word he said. No wonder I have dubbed him foolish and weak-minded.”

 

I though things over for a little while. My mind flew its way into the farther future when Alex and I would wed. Was someone going to show up at our wedding with schemes and plans to destroy and wreck unpityingly our marriage? Without a doubt, yes. In this life it does not matter how good and sincere you are. You will always have rivals and wolves -dolled-up-in-sheep’s-clothing people who will not rest or jab a brake until they have seen you utterly and comprehensively destroyed and no more. And as long as one lives, he or she must confront and war with such kind of people.

 

“So how did you feel yesterday? I mean at the wedding. You were there celebrating the marriage of your friend, all conscious and aware that your own daughter will never be able to walk down the aisle to the man of her dreams and fantasies. Didn’t it hurt you to realize that?”

 

Kris scowled at me furiously for that. “Why do you say that?”

 

I almost broke into sudden and uncontrollable tears. “Mom, this reality is so painful. I mean, deep down my heart, I want to fall into the arms of a man who will win and eternally capture my heart. And you cannot ever let me fall in love with whomever it is that I feel like—”

 

She corrected me immediately. “I am not the one keeping you away from falling in love. The curse is, and not I myself.”

 

“I know. But is there not any thinkable way to break it.”

 

“Do not even dare to think about that?”

 

“Why must I not? Tell me now.”

 

 

“I have not told you about what happened to my younger sister, Lydia, have I?”

 

“No, you just said that she died naturally from an incurable illness. Cancer, wasn’t it?”

 

“I lied to you. That is not what happened.”

 

“Why did you not tell me the truth all along?”

 

“I didn’t know you would come to ask me this question. But now that you have, I must clear away any misunderstandings and mysteries existing for once and for all.”

 

I was very much quiet and attentive, eavesdropping and un-stirring in my seat.

 

“Lydia did not die any natural death. She was…was…eaten by the kelpies.”

 

“What are the kelpies, mother.”

 

“It is another name for demons. A certain kind of demons.”

 

“What kind of demons are the kelpies?”

 

“The demons responsible for the execution and proceeding of our curse.”

 

“Illustrate more, will you?”

 

Kris breathed out, stealing a glimpse of me. She saw how keen and active my curiosity had been stimulated. I wanted to know everything about these kelpies. Everything knowable about them. What? If I decided to fight for my alliance and matrimony to Alex, would they vehemently and unrelentingly fight back on me. Would they?

 

“The kelpies are the ones responsible for our stroke and misery. They will do anything in their power to stay and refrain us away from clearing ourselves of their influence and authoritativeness. They will unfailingly fight back if you seek to get rid of that curse reigning over our lives. Like you suggested, Lydia insinuated the same and you know what it is that fell upon her in the very end? Not conquest or triumph, but peril and damnation! The same is true with every woman of our class who was afflicted by the curse holding sway over us. Lydia was not the first and last one to try doing that. There have been countless other women before her, all of whom fell to the ground dead and breathless in the very end. No one has succeeded in breaking this curse, Sophia. I feel that you will not be the first one to celebrate victory in shattering it either. No, you will not be.”

 

“What is it that exactly happened to Aunt Lydia?”

 

“The kelpies defeated her. She got nowhere with her plans and proceedings. Now do you understand why you must not ever think to break the curse? Do you? It is better you stay safe than sorry. I don’t want to lose you, no—I don’t want to watch you die or perish. I will not even help you kill yourself. From now on, you must ask no such kind of question or entertain such kind of thoughts, do you hear me?”

 

“Yes, mother.”

 

 

Our car stopped at an interjection of three roads where there also happened to be robots. They flashed and indicated red in a brilliant circle—the reason why we arrived at an ephemeral stop. Walking past us was a group of mature but young men, with sagged and skinny-shaped jeans, all of whom took a moment or two to ogle and whistle at us. I stared at them instantly before I carried on to examine Kris’ annoyed expression.

 

She made a face, looking away and ignoring the watchful group of boys.

 

Cat-calls. They were illiterate and vulgar, weren’t they, just like those who made them? That was what I reasoned. To be revealing with you, it was just plain damn annoying and unnerving to have men whistle at you manipulatively wherever you happened to go. What did they achieve and even think by doing that in the first place? What specifically?

 

Kris and I did not mean to attract much attention. We unintentionally did. Wherever we went, there were always men and hosts of women to gawk and marvel at us voicelessly and in suppressed admiration. It was like they had seen a pair of good-looking angels, which, in all reality, we were not.

 

Sakky’s Boutique. That was where we drew to an eventual halt and went out to shop and select our preferred clothings. The boutique itself was this immense and immaculately-tiled and glass-walled and air-conditioned. It was like paradise on earth. The street it was based on being named ‘Missile Road.’ It was not like there was a missile manufacturing company anywhere here down this street. It was just a normal but meaningless name, I speculated.

 

In the faint but assured sunlight, we parked Kris’ Dultex and marched off into the boutique. While inside, Kris charged me to be checking her out every once in a while. That was the most high-priced car she had ever bought in her life, and she could not afford to lose or become forfeited of. Should that happen, it would be the terriblest loss of her days ever. Yes, it surely would.

 

From the interior view of the boutique, Dultex was ravishing and quiescently motionless. Not a wail, not a chime was heard from her. Not anything of that sort at all.

 

The shopping assistant here had the name ‘Betty Kachele’ marked on the cleanly white shirt of her gray skirt suit. She was short and fleshy and dark haired with very dark skin. Nevertheless, she was chivalrous and complaisant. I liked people like her.

 

“How is Alice doing?” Kris asked, facing me and eyeing out her Nissan Dultex as quickly and briefly as she could. It was still there, nicely and well parked. She had the nerve, didn’t she? I mean she was just too sleepless and un-resting to be worrying about a God-knows-how -much-it-was-secured-for car. Don’t you think so? She added on, “Lately, I have been hearing you not saying anything about her. It got me worried. I was like no, my daughter cannot now be enemies with such kind of a good-natured and sweetly girl.”

 

F*ck it! How was I going to introduce this un-existing Alice to mom in the coming future? Yes. I did feel that she was going to ask me to have the two of them meet together one of these coming days. Oh…oh! I had to be creative and brainy enough. What was I going to do? What? What Kris did not know was that Alice was Alex Ramirez. A handsome boy and not some pretty sweet and guileless young lady. End of story.

 

 

“Sophia, are you even listening?”

 

I quaked to my senses at that point. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

 

“How is Alice doing? You haven’t been updating me on anything with respect to her or how she is even doing.”

 

“Oh…that! She is fine. It is only that we last met each other ages ago and we will soon be meeting up one of these days. Yeah, we will.”

 

She elevated an eyebrow at me.

 

I gawped back at her. “What now?”

 

“Nothing…serious or offensive. That’s all.”

 

My phone beeped and chimed. I hastily fetched it and checked the text that I had just received. An email in other words. From Alex that was. I scanned about. Kris was busy talking with Betty, granting me the chance and opening to hurry off toward an isolated and hidden corner and then freely open my email from there:

 

From: Lex Ramirez < lex26ramirez@gmail.com>

Subject: Missing You My Baby!

 

Hi, sweet angel. I miss you very much! Do you miss me as well?

 

There was an attachment to the email. I opened it. Oh my gosh! It was a digital picture of me looking this beaming and pleased with him smiling happily as he hugged me in the cafeteria— Sam’s Lobelia. It was just pretty damn cute and adorable!

 

I breathed out as slowly and effortlessly as I could. What could I reply to him? Alex. What precisely? I shuddered pitifully and began typing the following email back to him (lex26ramirez):

 

Hi, pretty boy. I miss you as well. Shall call you up later on. Take care please. I saw the picture…it was amazing and fantastic. Really.

 

That was all. I could not think of anything else or invent up anything sweet and delightful to say to him. Exceptional, wasn’t it?

 

“Sophia,” Kris called out my name worriedly and ear-piercingly.

 

“Yes, mother,” I answered back, appearing before her with a handsome dress and a pair of jeans and a pretty top grasped in my hands. “Here, I am. Look what I have got.”

 

Kris stuck out her eyes and examined both me and the clothes I was holding. She stated, “Outlandish-looking jeans have caught your eyes and bedazzled your senses! I cannot buy into it, Sophia. Come on, get something convenient and satisfactory. The yellow dress is

 

 

convincing, as well as the turquoise top. But that jeans, it is just unsuitable and unfit for you to wear.”

 

 

 

I did like Kris recommended. She afterwards had me grasp and carry the clothes that she had selected. Yawcks! Not that it was a painful task to do—it was this annoyingly exhausting and unnerving. How I wished that I had remained in the car to relax and loll down as I felt like.

 

But then come on, Sophia, who was going to do the shopping and clothes pick-and-pack for you? Who? Kris herself? I doubted if she would have ever assented to doing that.

 

I followed her and Betty wherever they wandered to, prattling and cackling up to themselves. They chattered about how this latest form of dress had taken the overall market by storm and also about how young ladies nowadays—of which I was inclusive, without doubt—no longer discerned the curtain disjoining the dos and don’ts of dressing. They gibbered and babbled about nearly almost everything. I sighed and rolled my eyes incessantly all the while, ruminating and pondering about how so greatly and profoundly I was falling for Alex. Yes, that was all that mattered to me and nothing else. Love, love, love…wonderful love…love is really good…

 

An hour later, Kris and I were settled quietly and pensively in our car, heading back home. I didn’t know what occupied and engaged her mind. As for me, it was Alex and nothing else. Was this how being in love made one to become? Like a zombie with an incurable and remediless addiction? Was that it?

 

That night it rained and pelted down excessively hard. The roof above me—in my bedroom that was—rattled and reverberated and resonanted. For a while, I even thought that it would collapse down and crush me to nothingness. Of course, those were my silly fears and nothing more.

 

In the comfort and safeguard of my bed, while it still rained and thundered, I called Alex. Not by shouting out vociferously. I looked for my phone and then dialed his number. It took a number of minutes to be connected to him and for his phone to ring and get answered and also for his voice to become unobstructed and unhampered. “Alex, how have you been?”

 

“Fine, sweet angel. I miss you so dearly.”

 

“I miss you too.”

 

“What do you want to dream about tonight?”

 

“Look who is talking. A fairy or a what?”

 

“A fairy godfather. I can make your wishes come true, you know. Not in reality. But in dreams.”

 

I chuckled at that and Alex laughed after me as well. “How true and substantial is that?”

 

“Very much true and substantial—my sweet angel.”

 

“Alex, you are so romantic, have I ever told you that?”

 

 

“This is your first time ever mentioning it to me.”

 

“I trust that it is the appropriate and legitimate time to reveal it. Don’t you think so?”

 

“Yeah, I do, my sweet angel.”

 

Oh my! That name—sweet angel—it was freezing me and turning me into this body and substance of yummy and luscious-tasting chocolate ice cream. Each time that Alex mentioned it, I felt certain kind of firework- like and sweetly and candied emotions running through me. It made the environment around me become beautiful and musical-like and thrilling and gratifying. Yes, it did. Alex…I truly and sincerely loved him.

 

“Can I ask you something, Sophia?”

 

“Yes, Alex. You are free to ask anything. Anything I say.”

 

“What would you give this one boy in the world who loves you insanely and derangedly to death itself?”

 

“I would give him everything I possess, everything that I hold as mine. My mind and my body more importantly.”

 

“And you know that he exists, right?”

 

“I feel so.”

 

“Come on, sweet angel. Don’t feel it. Think about it please, will you?”

 

“Fine. I have thought about it and I am sure and confident that he has genuine and sound existence.”

 

“Exactly what I wanted to hear from you. You know one thing?”

 

“What?”

 

“That boy is talking to you right now; that boy is I myself, Alex Ramirez.”

 

I was breathless and quiet for a while. What could I reply to that? What exactly?

 

“Sophia, I love you. I whole-heartedly and sincerely love you, my sweet angel. I would like to hear what you have to say with respect to your emotions and feelings for me. Do you love me in return?”

 

“Yes, I do, Alex. I love you so much than you are dreaming and speculating of.”

 

He was quiet and un-talking for a little while. What had happened to him?

 

“Alex, are you there?”

 

“Yeah… I am.”

 

 

“What else are you doing besides from talking with me on the phone?”

 

“I am Face-booking. On my laptop that is.”

 

“Oh…so you have a Face-book profile?”

 

“Yah…and you?”

 

“I have one. But it has been ages ago since I last updated it or checked anything new from my friends. You go by what name there?”

 

“You are going to check out my profile, aren’t you?”

 

“No. I just wanted to know. Nothing else.”

 

“Alex Ramirez Junior. The junior is abbreviated. As in the capital letter ‘J’ proceeded by the minor ‘r’.”

 

“I get it.”

 

“And you, how is your profile labeled?”

 

“Sophia-ress Solochi. It is frivolous and imprudent, isn’t it? Almost like I am a heiress to the throne of Who-knows-what kingdom. Isn’t that what it sounds like?”

 

“Mayhap, my sweet angel.”

 

“Hey, what time do you habitually go to bed?”

 

“Eleven or midnight often times.”

 

“You are a stay-up-lately then.”

 

“Yah.”

 

“So what is hot there on Face-book?”

 

“My friend’s wedding. Alan Quincy. He is campaigning and bragging about his wedding which will come off two weeks ahead. He is inviting me there along with my girlfriend.”

 

“And has she agreed to be present there with you?”

 

He was quiet and un-speaking for a while. Possibly offended and confound. He then returned, “What do you mean by asking if she has agreed to be present there with me?”

 

“I am talking about your girlfriend, Alex.”

 

“And who do you think that you are to me?”

 

 

“I myself?”

 

“Exactly. You yourself.”

 

“Uhmnn…we are friends who have just happened to fall in love, aren’t we?”

 

“I am officially taking you there as my girlfriend, Sophia. Do you agree to be present at that wedding with me?”

 

I sifted and weighed things over. “Yes, I do.”

 

“Thank you so much then. It will be my utmost pleasure.”

 

Sh*t! What mess was I getting myself into? What fuck*ng sort of mess?

 

I breathed out and laid down on my bed in relaxation and repose. Damn everything! Where was all of this going? Where exactly? To good- will and benignity? Or to ruin and destruction? I couldn’t tell. Anyway, it was too soon to tell, wasn’t it?

 

Late that night, I grabbed the outdated but still efficiently operative laptop from my good-natured and harmless neighbors, Jack and Joshua Zimba. At weekends, the boys without fail visited and had a word or two with me. They always invited me to particular places to go and have fun with them but I on every occasion turned them down. Why? You might wonder. It was clearly obvious and unmistakable to me that they both had a crush on me—specifically Jack—and I was not willing to venture on any sort of commitment and engagement with anyone of them when I knew that it was Alex alone who had seized and won my heart and no one else besides him. I didn’t want to disappoint and grieve them in the very end. I was reserving myself just for Alex solely. End of story.

 

Once having opened Mozilla Firefox, I entered ‘facebook.com’ and instantaneously surfed the web. On the Face-book site, I logged into my account—Sophia-ress Solochi—and saw that I had ten olden messages, six of which were from Jessica Knowles and the other four from Mwila Kapya and Hope Mazimba and Luwi Ethel and Robert Janwell. I ignored them for the meantime and searched ‘Alex Ramirez Jr.’ The results were mind-blowing. Face-book found 6789 individuals that had the name registered on the site. I had to use another tactic instead. I mean there was no way I was going to carefully consider each and every one of those 6789 Alex Ramirez Juniors until I had found the one and only Alex that I was familiar with. No way. It was impossible to go about, unthinkable even.

 

I tried a different approach to the search: ‘Alex Ramirez Jr. Brownton University.’

 

That was when I nailed the riddle. Only one Alex showed up—the Alex that I knew and was presently in love with. Yes. It was surely and undeniably him. My God! He had put on his profile picture that picture he emailed me yesterday of us sitted together and posing methodically at the cafeteria Sam’s Lobelia. My goodness! What could be the precise meaning of that?

 

I did some spying on his wall. It was fun and amusement, I can warrant you. I enjoyed every little bit of the game and proceeding. Who-o-ah!

 

 

Alex was thoughtful and momentous in updating his wall. In one post he indicated :

 

Morning 2 ya, all gentle-guyz and gentle- ladies. If I hadn’t disclosed m relationship status, then now is the right time to do so. I am ‘Currently Pursuing.’

 

‘Brian The Hulk’ asked him:

 

Currently Pursuing. Tell us the girl’s name, my man. It might be ma girlfriend whom you are going after and we will mercilessly clash if you do dat.

 

Alex Ramirez Jr., liking Brian The Hulk’s comment, texted back:

 

Brian, you mad, lol. U so mad, ma man. She z not Linette I am talking about here. Her name starts with ‘S.’ Let’s see if you can guess it correctly.

 

Brian The Hulk:

 

Samantha?

 

Alex Ramirez Jr.:

 

Nope, dude.

 

Brian The Hulk:

 

Sheila.

 

Alex Ramirez Jr.:

 

Almost there.

 

Brian The Hulk:

 

Sharon or Sheba or Shona or Suwilanji or Sandra or Sylvia or Sibongile. Any of the names correct, pal?

 

Alex Ramirez Jr.:

 

Very wrong.

 

Brian The Hulk:

 

I give up. Tell me her name then.

 

Maxwell Madalitso, in intervention:

 

Sophia Solochi. It is as simple as that, Brian.

 

Brian The Hulk:

 

 

Thanx, Max. Cannot wait to meet her. Alex. So this is the lady?

 

Alex Ramirez Jr.:

 

What, dude? Do you know her? Have you met her anywhere b4? I trust that you have not. She iz new in this town & our university itself.

 

Brian The Hulk:

 

So she is at our university?

 

Alex Ramirez Jr.:

 

Not per say. She will attend soon hopefully. A 1st year student of Fashion & Designing.

 

Brian The Hulk:

 

Mind sending her pic 2 me if you have any. I want to rate her for you. You rated Linette 4-stars for me. Now is my time 2 rate ur girl 4 you, don’t you agree?

 

Alex Ramirez Jr.:

 

I will text you her pic as an MMS. Text me your review & opinion in SMS. Nothing more than that. Agreed? Don’t post anything nasty or pleasing here on FB.

 

Brian The Hulk:

 

It’s a deal made, my man.

 

Sh*t! So that was what Alex had arranged with this ‘Brian The Hulk’ friend of his?

 

 

 

 

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