Book Review
I'll be honest, I've had a really hard time writing this review because Cheryl B., the author of My Awesome Place, was my friend and she is dead
Ladies and gentleman, as of thsi coming Friday I will be hosting a short story series for a friend in
Its good to be a small part of such a journey and see a dream fulfilled.
He sort of reminds me of JL Campbell. I feel the same about her and her writing ad self publishing journey. I have been cheering from the background for so long that their accomplishments now feel like mine.
Anyway let me give you a little preview of what you shound be expectingfrom Seun Odukoya, for at least five Fridays on my blog.
When Dapo was twelve a horse kicked him.
It was like watching it all over again – the sudden intense heat and the crippling numbness that came with unconsciousness. It happened on the weekend of his twelfth birthday, and his parents had kept their promise of taking him to the Bar Beach. At first, the rush of half-naked human beings and the sounds of the waves kept him paralyzed, but after some urging from his dad he had begun to enjoy the splashing of the waves on his feet as he ran, laughing and running up the beach away from the tide.
It was his birthday after all.
He was resting from one of such races when the horse kicked him. And it wasn’t the horse’s fault. She was standing, minding her business when Dapo bumped into her solidly, startling the poor horse. Reflex kicked in, ‘reflex’ being in form of a casual back thrusting left hoof that landed right in the middle of Dapo’s tummy. He fainted.
Years later, and his father still joked about how his mother’s scream had drowned out all the sound blasters on the beach. Everyone would laugh while Dapo would quietly seethe with anger. It wasn’t amusing to him – particularly since he still felt the twinge of pain in his belly every now and then.
Almost twenty years to the day and he felt the twinge again. He was on his way out of the Silverbird Galleria after watching the sour Wolverine movie and trying to figure out what the next thing was to be – either go home or head to Ozone to watch another movie.
He felt the twinge as he saw a girl close the door of a blood-red Camry 2012. It wasn’t just that he ‘saw a girl’ – after all, saying you saw a fine girl at the Galleria is as pointless as saying you saw Genevieve standing next to Stephanie & Omotola while Yvonne Nelson took their picture…you get the point.
It wasn’t the looks. He stopped short of the doors and watched her through the glass. She was fishing in her Ghana-must-go size handbag for something, hair obscuring her face. The way she moved made the twitching in his belly steadily worse and he grabbed the offending part and bit his tongue to keep from crying out.
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