The Circle of Life

And another pre-farafina story…

Things almost never go according to plan; Mr. Stomach’s life is a living proof of this. He had wanted to become a world famous painter, the short boy with a paunchy stomach from Ilawe Ekiti whose works are displayed in the halls of the biggest art galleries in the world. He had been talented enough, once upon a time. Now his paintings can be found only on the walls of his six bedroom penthouse apartment, to the entertainment of classless visitors who barely notice, much less appreciate them. Now he’s a malcontent accountant in a cold corner office working with other malcontent accountants in a three-floored accounting firm with central air conditioning reeking permanently of stale blood and broken dreams.¬† Continue reading “The Circle of Life”



Okay, so I recently decided to post all my pre-farafina stories week-after-week (until they’re all gone), in hopes that the 10 days I spent with literary giants will help me write better stories (I haven’t written shit since then). The Last Time (which I posted last week) was the story I submitted as my application, this is something else I wrote a day after that (both¬†unedited). Enjoy? Continue reading “Yellow”