I left a letter to be read, behind me. I left, in a hurry. Nothing was planned, I didn’t even pack. I spared four people who loved me the torment of the moment. I sent them out, locked myself in and got revved up for the final call. This was it.
I looked down into the shallow depths of the coconut water in my hands. I see my eyes looking back at me, how very sad, they inspire me ultimately. I down it all in one gulp. I don’t know what happened next. I must have left. I can hear whispers and shouts.
Like I said, I left a letter to be read. The four people who loved me, barely came up to my waist when I left them. I see them all huddled in a corner, clueless. I am pained but strangely relieved.
He came in, the man of my dreams, dashingly careworn, eyes heavy, the drunk, the gall of him. He looks at me, lying sprawled and covered head to toe on the floor and I seethe in rage. Someone get him away from me. I don’t know how, he just moved away by himself. The drunk. The gall of him.
Next, came in a throng of people I knew lead by a woman for whom, I wrote the letter. Hawk eyed little wretch, she spied the letter. Little wretch motioned with a flick of her wrist at someone and my precious precious letter was now in hands I didn’t recognize. Who are you? The letter isn’t for you. Do not open. Do not read, Why are you opening,.. why.. Just, give it to the lady after you are done reading? Please?
I wait, the lady, the intended recipient too finally reads the letter. A dread passes her fair face. One look at the other woman and the letter disappears in folds of their wretched silks.
I follow the other woman out of the house. At the back, where the latrines are, she opens the letter, sits down, tears at it like a dog and eats it, bit by bit. It must have tasted of cheap paper and ink.
I doubt if it tasted of blood, of semen, of broken teeth, of leather belts, of cheap liquor, of diesel, of other woman’s sweat and of him. Whatever I left behind, dogs tore at. Senseless suicide.