storyteller; myth-maker.
It doesn’t make the sound that you think it would make. I mean, I figured it would be loud, or top-heavy. But it sounded like almost nothing, like water dripping from a shower faucet three rooms away. The only reason I knew what had happened at all was the communion table splitting clean in half, scattering the grape juice and the crackers everywhere.
I stepped over Jesus’ body and his blood on my way out.
Continue reading “The Virgin Mary (Published in Hobart Online)”
Eniola got the Big Promotion. Two-hour board meeting, binders and binders of new information, papers to sign. His whole floor drank champagne in the office, afterwards. Nancy from HR got a little drunk and lurched towards Eniola, said something incoherent; the only words Eniola could make out were ‘affirmative action’, and he thought even that might have just been wishful thinking, a projection of problems that were not there.
The next day, his older brother Luke called him at work.
“Hey, listen,” he said, as soon as Eniola picked up the phone. “I might need some help,”
Adesuwa Agbonile 