Chapter 42 Room 45: Inside A Match Box 12

• EIGHT A M THE NEXT DAY, which was Saturday, Abram’s phone rang. It was Martina. “Hi” she said. “Hi also”, Abram replied with a guile smile. “I have been thinking whether you can come over to my house. I needed your touch and I needed you to …” Abram interrupted and said, “Martina, I am busy. I don’t have time to come to your place. I know you wanted to have me but I can’t sweep what I am doing right now and run down to your house as you are expecting me to do now.”
• On the phone, Martina sighed and with a dying smile like someone missing her lover who went to war and never returned. She said, “Festus, I am not saying you should ‘run down to arm.” She continued, “what I am only saying, Fest, is that, I just … you know.” She sighed again. “what I am simply saying is that I want us to get entangled. That is ‘entangled.’ That is what I am saying, Fest, you know …”
• Abram didn’t say a word but was silent on the phone. He was just shock on the manner at which Martina was throwing her net around him. In his head, it is like seeing a Victorian princess running after a rag tag poet for his use of words, coined to appease the human soul. He asked himself tinselly, “what did Martina sees around me glowing her that she keeps throwing her rainbow net to me, despite my eyes winks, my body slowly slip off from grasp, from becoming her muse, I don’t need.”