Chiamaka Eze
ghostwriter||content creator||storywriter||
Member Since: 1 year ago
Whose Fingers Are On Me?
A storm brew outside in the dark with thunderclaps and lightning hot on each othersβ heels as I stir half awake from my sleep. That's not what shakes me awake though. The slow crawl of fingers up the back of my thighs lures me into a sleepy haze and arouse warmth to pull between my legs. It has me growling like a starved animal and smiling from an erotic high. Thunder strikes and, just like a dehypnotic cue, its loud claps drag me out of mesmerising lust back to reality. My one room apartme...
In Appreciation...
This journey to a whole new level all started with an e-mail, as wholesome as it was helpful. At first I was a doubting Thomas. βShould I participate or should I let this slide?β Those questions warred in my head for a while. Luckily for me, I chose the former and I became chosen (all puns intended π π€) Thanks #nircle and #NircleStoriesCommunity for, first of all, granting me an opportunity to participate in the #AfricaUnveiledContest and, secondly, for finding my work worthy of winn...
Chosen
The rich greens of swaying leaves reflected radiant rays of the sun which breathed a new dawn on the Mbiamunyi people of Alor-Aguβa hinterland in the south-eastern region of Nigeria. The sandy plains of streets vibrated in acceptance of rushed footsteps mingled with the powerful pounds of numerous igba by hefty men. Ecstacy surged through everyone as the pleasant melody of multiple oja joined in properly introducing the commencement of the long awaited Aja ceremonyβa ceremony to invoke th...
When Opportunity Comes Running ...
πΉππ π‘βπ π πππ ππ βππππππ¦ ππ£ππ πππ‘πππ ... The heavy thumping in my chest combined with my shallow breathing as I run down the concrete sidewalk in the golden glow of the dusk sunset have no effect on how far my memory can go to hurt me. πΌ πππ'π‘ ππππ‘πππ’π π€ππ‘β π‘βππ ππ¦ππ‘π‘. The words stamped in my mind flow out with a flourish that slowly...
Joan's Revenge.
The night's breeze blow and I feel myself shiver. I move farther down the path and hear the crunch of dry leaves and snap of twigs underfoot. Towering trees surround me as I keep walking and leaves obscure the sky above. Finally making out the landmark, I run. With a splash, I jump into the brook that cuts between the woods and the Preacher's chamber. Slowly, I lie in its water and let the cool liquid soothe me to sleep while my pain and frustration flow through me into it. When I awake w...
Joan in the Stake.
We arrive the stake and are met by two men, each bearing lit torches on each side of a carefully set up stake. Meredith's screams are no where within my earshot. They give a light nod and the Reverend spares one in return. The men who were on both sides of the Reverend approach me. Their eyes linger on me and I hasten to say with a whisper βI am not a witchβ. My voice feels distant, like it belongs to someone else. Hot tears pool my eyes and begin to drop, wetting my cheeks in their wake....
Joan of the Stake.
βBurn the witch! Burn the witch!β The background bellows hypnotise me into a daze as I am dragged along by a twine tightly wound around me, its thorns prick my skin letting fresh blood dye my smock. The smock draped over my body does little to prevent the cold of the night from seeping into me and stinging my core. My bare feet register the smooth, cool terrain and the occasional pierce of stones. In the distance, I see the waver of burning torches and immediately snap out of my daze. I...
