I opened a few online store pages as soon as Nicole left my office. I would give a jig to wear a red dress to work. My colors were more of the neutral range: grey,black,brown and white. I switched things up with some bright colors once in a while but the only red thing I owned was a belt. I couldn’t buy a red hand bag, not even if it was leather and I know my leather.

After much scrolling and clicking, I closed all the tabs and went back to drinking my tea. The extra cash I had in my account would go to Dad’s treatment. His talk about grandchildren was a thrill to my brothers. Francis was one to talk given that he was off to saint hood. The one time I brought up that girl with breasts like coconuts he gave me the silent treatment for one month. The next time I mentioned the one with an orange phone with that ringtone that sounded like the clash of sufurias, he unleashed a three month cold war. That boy had a good memory. His father’s memory. He had a heart. His mother’s heart. I couldn’t tell which one I loathed. Dad, Raphael and I know that he’s never going to wear that cloth. We also know that he would be better off teaching Theology as opposed to living and practicing it. See, Francis cannot fail to acknowledge curves. His head turns at the sight of legs, bums, light skins and long weaves. He appreciates beauty. 

Raphael believes he can do it. Father just shakes his head. Raphael thinks he would make a great priest. Father just shakes his head. Raphael opens his mouth to say one more thing and Father goes, “When are you going to get married to that young woman who cleans your clothes, prepares your food and sleeps on your bed?”

Raphael suddenly has a phone call to answer. 

With my last sip, I looked out the window at the parking lot, there were four slots remaining. It was almost noon and I had not made any advancement on the project I was assigned. I sat by the window, counting the black cars and then the white and the grey/silver. I lived for days like this when I would only look forward to lunch and 5pm. Some days I looked out my window and there were more open parking spaces because the bosses were not in. 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.