By Remi Olutimayin
"I always found that the true nature of things are most clearly
revealed in the dark. This is not to be confused with the factual
nature of things. The night often turns your mind against you. It
reveals fears hidden in your sub-conscious. Some fears you can do
something about, by simply turning on the lights or sleeping more
deeply. Other fears show you to be helpless & can rob you of your
peace of mind for weeks. I am one of them."
I woke up & looked about me. My wife slept in anger next to me. When
frustrated,she would snore loudly,but when angry,she would sleep
silently,as if masticating her plans of reprisal & it made me uneasy.
Be wary of the anger of a patient woman.
It was my third week of unemployment. I & 3,000 faceless colleagues.
The purge in the banking system started a tribe of angst-ridden
people. I felt our communal rage everytime I looked at the empty
liabilities that I had acquired over time. The cable tv subscription
was going to be out in 3 days. The car had to be sold but everyone
else wanted to stay liquid,so who would buy from me? I saw my books
from my university days that continued to mock me,"A chemical
engineer, now a redundant book-keeper."
The smart ones had started to cash in on investments in small business
like snail farming. Things had gotten ridiculous very quickly. There
were promises that had to be broken because there was no money to keep
them. These things kept feeding my frustrations with the affection of
a nursing mother. Everytime I would get a reprieve of sorts,they would
rise to challenge the threat of being forgotten. It was during times
like this that I would remember the cold warnings of the Jeremiah of
my branch. He was the one who plagued my dreams,who laughed to mock my
every attempt at resting & I didn't know who I could tell. It felt
like guilt for how the rest of the branch clique ganged up on him & I
stood by in silence. My forced apathy was a deeper consent to the
cruelties that were handed out to him. No one would willingly die for
a good man. I chewed these thoughts slowly like cud & I couldn't weep
for him because I had no tears even for myself.
"You are depressed!", my wife said,offering what seemed less an
opinion & more a disfigured epiphany.
That's what started her anger at me because I did what no man should
do to his wife. I pushed her away. Her suggestion seemed to be a
hurriedly assembled solution to a problem that started too long ago
for any immediate help. I think I deserve to be caged with these
demons & eaten alive. But I don't think anymore. I sit awaiting
judgment day. I cannot live off her because of pride & also because
she won't allow it. I feel stupid next to her. I once sat behind my
desk,thinking of her skin & I was aroused in unusual places. The
office got brighter & I could pick snatches of conversations from
corners of the room. Now when I think of her, it's her words & spirit
that is behind them, giving them a cruel quaility I will never believe
she has a natural capacity for. I haven't had cause to reply her
words. I just shut myself away & it's obvious she is not being
listened to. To spite her, I ignore her question,"Are you listening to
me?"
So, during my extended moment of madness, I offered my services to an
old client who wanted to sleep with me. I shuddered involuntarily
everytime I remembered the folds of her neck, the breasts that had
long ago conceded to gravity, her breath fouled by things too
frightening to contemplate. Suprisingly, she actually had a price,
place, period & preference ready. I was a 'shoe in'. I got myself a
lot of recreational drugs to dull the blade of my conscience &
self-respect. The money would tide me over for about 2 months. It
wasn't so bad. It felt like petting a bleached whale. Of course, when
she got tired of foreplay, she insisted on mounting 'me'. What can I
say? I made sure my diaphram was safe & let her ride. It was the idea
of the money that kept me up. It was over long before I could remember
my name or what I was doing there or why there was a huge woman next
to me with a penchant for farting in her sleep. I got an earful when I
got back home. Showering never felt better. I could literally feel the
memories being pulled away by the suds. Her tongue in my mouth (vomit
rose briefly), my head between her flip-flops (vomit visited again) &
that strange uninviting smell when she took off her panties (vomit
took its leave & I watched it dance down the drain).
I was worried that I'd have to go back again sometime soon & then I
got texts. I discovered that in any business, referrals are important.
My penis withered in depression. But it was for the money. One of them
wanted to get pregnant.
I found myself between a crime to self & a crime to marriage.
Marriage will survive. It's been here longer than me, hasn't it?
I no longer touch my wife. She's worried. Good. The dynamic works for
me...for now. Now off to get Viagra for my Erectile disinterest.
--
Sent from my mobile device
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