Endless Sleep / Five Decades of Red Roses

An open-ended short story from Nigerian author, Olaitan. The quaint mystery heightens the tragedy in Endless Sleep. The second story, Five Decades of Red Roses, is a flashback account of the protagonist. Here are two powerful stories exclusively for Different Truths.

Endless Sleep

It was like a dream to me; as I watched John cry like a baby. He was bitter and sour about the tragedy that seemed like a stage play to him.

John came back from work and realised that the main gate of his house was ajar and the front doors were wide open. How did it happen? Who did it? When? Why? Those were the questions that danced on his mind. His stout mind urged him to enter the house and get facts of the funny scenario that appeared unreal to him. He drove in his car and parked it right in front of the gazebo, slowly walked into the house and discovered that it was covered with darkness. Instead of permitting fear to grab his emotions, he brought out his phone and switched on the flashlight and continued the search.

As he moved toward the first room, he saw drops of blood on the floor. He felt like screaming, but controlled himself and stood still.

As if a heavy hand touched his shoulders, he turned to see who the person was. Suddenly, his phone fell on something he did not know until he bent to pick his phone. As his palm grabbed the phone, he felt that his hand touched the cold body of an unknown person. Quickly, he directed the light at the body.

“Impossible!” He screamed as tears rolled down from his eyes. He fell on the body and pulled it to his chest. I took the phone from him, and pointed it at the body.

It was Eve; his wife! I wish I did not follow John to his house that evening. I was scared beyond description. I wish it did not happen. Eve was cruelly laid to an endless sleep.

I could not stop John from crying. Life and its rhetoric mysteries…

©Olaitan Maryam


Five Decades of Red Roses

It is our fiftieth wedding anniversary. Five decades of the celebration of love. I cannot forget my first date with her.

I was late for work, so I called my secretary and informed her that I would not be at work that day. But I ended up putting up an appearance, yes, I did! I went straight to my office and did some work; I signed some of the pending contracts I had and wrote some proposals.

Just as I switched off my laptop, my secretary walked into my office and handed over some files. I was angry with her because I was not in a good mood to examine any file. I instructed her to take away the files. As Lola walked out of my office, she turned back and said, “I hope you have not forgotten about the date.” She smiled and hurriedly walked out of the office.

“Date!” I hummed, “Oh, the date!” I exclaimed. I quickly put my laptop inside my bag and left the office.

After having a cold shower and dressing up for the date, I sent a short message to her; to remind her of the date. Though, I knew she did not forget about the date.

I walked up to the mirror, took a careful look at myself and flaunted. Just before I set out, I decided to switch off the lights, but my eyes fell on the picture on the wall. It was the portrait of Adele; the lady I was about to propose my love to.

Believe me, the date went perfectly well and it was not the last. She ended up being my lady, then, we got married.

Indeed, love is immortal.

©Olaitan Maryam

Pix from Net.

Olaitan Maryam

Olaitan Maryam

Olaitan is a Nigerian. She is also a Student, Blogger, Sales Representative, Poet, Writer and an Essayist. Some of her poems have been published in anthologies, on webzines and blogs.
Olaitan Maryam

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