We both stood there, staring at each other. The rain poured like never before, our hearts beating like the konga drum; who is going to make the first move, we have said good night a dozen times and our legs glued to the ground.
The rain beat us fiercely, looking into his eyes, I tried reading his mind. Is he shy, or scared of touching me or what the hell was his problem?
I turned once again like so many a night, disappointed. As I took my leave, the lightening struck with anger, there was a loud bang in the sky as if the heaven blew a trumpet.
I got so scared that I ran to him for protection, and then it happened. I ran into his open arms and we kissed and he swivel me in the rain and we danced in the rain!
©Babashola Timothy Ayeni.
Konga its an African Drum and its so loud!
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