Wishful thinking

 I shuddered slightly in the chill of the harmattan evening. Cupping the mug in both hands and closing my eyes. I took a deep breath. The sweet aroma of the peach and rose hips herbal tea travelled up my nose into my head and infused my thoughts with sweetness. It was a beautiful evening. The sun cast a soft orangey glow as it set over the rusted red roof of the local bakery down the street.

I had gotten off work early and since I’d had a late lunch with the girls at the office, I settled for a cup of herbal tea instead of having dinner.

I settled in my favorite armchair just by the French windows that looked out into the street and waited for him.I didn’t wait for long.

As soon as I heard the familiar purring of his car engine, I looked at the time displayed on my phone screen. 17:57. Right on time.

He opened his door and the familiar strains of KCee’s “Limpopo” wafted out of his car stereo. He walked to open the gate to drive his car in. He had this peculiar habit of looking a little up and to the left as he got out of his car, then narrowing his eyes as he squinted at the sun.  

 He wore a cerise pink short sleeved linen shirt over a pair of pre-washed blue jeans. It was a Friday, so he could dress that way to work. I loved the way his broad shoulders filled out the shirt. He didn’t have a six-pack, but he was rim and fit. I didn’t like skinny men. And the jeans….well, let’s just leave it at that. He wasn’t overtly handsome, but was attractive in a subtle way. When he spoke, it was as if his voice smiled at you, causing you to smile back. His hands were….hmm. They made you think of satin sheets and rose petals. And then, the piece de resistance – his lips. Those are the kind of lips you’d want to brush against in the dim light of the movie theatre. Or that poorly lit stairwell. On that moonlit evening. Or in the back seat of the taxi cab…

I went out to meet him, floating as it were on cloud nine. This was very easily the best part of my day. His face broke into a smile as I approached him. There was no need for words here. With his left hand on the small of my back, drawing me close, his right hand under my chin lifted my face to meet his.

Short. Sweet. Kiss.

“Why are you crying, sweetheart?” he asked. Tears gushed out like water from the rock struck by Moses’ rod. He tried, in vain to wipe them as they ran down and I felt the front of my tank top dampening from the tears.

The sound of a car door slamming brought me out of my dreamy haze and I realized I still held the mug in my hands. The front of my pale yellow top had turned a reddish brown hue where the tea had spilled on it.

“Shame on you, Tolulope Wright!” I said to myself. As I rose up to go change, I saw him out of the corner of my eye, walking to the staircase that led up to his flat, with his phone to his ear.

Yes, it was sadly true. I was in love with my neighbor. And he was in love with his wife. 


36 thoughts on “Wishful thinking

  1. Car ✔️, pink shirt ✔️, blue jeans ✔️, broad shoulders ✔️………is there a vacant flat in that house? I wanna be your neighbour!

  2. When you read a piece and it makes you want to write too, it means that piece is overly awesome. I sure hope neighbours wife doesn’t appear in that daydream someday.

  3. Chiedozie, you know what I’m talking about, girlfriend! Hehe!
    PureJoy, but but Ariel One Wash can restore the shirt, not true?
    Emma Edeh, LOL. I hope so too!
    Mariam, my Naan! You came! Thank you, sis.

  4. Nice one. You had my attention till he went to another flat. Wishful thinking helps blood pressure when you know where to change the baton…

  5. Hi Nekky! Great piece! Reveals your dexterity in writing. I’m glad I have a friend like you. Don’t drop the ball!

  6. I must ask you.. How’s the end of the pen you used to write wishful thinking…. It’s fresh, brilliant and captivating… Kudos

  7. @Ako: What do you know? I’m a doctor of sorts, right? Thanks for stopping by.
    @Tim: I’m blessed to have your friendship, too.
    KL, you’ve always told me to take it to the next level. I’m glad I didn’t disappoint. The pen is smoking hot, now.

  8. Realling captivating. Nne aka Noka so proud of you. Keep the pen active. Your imaginative ability eh! can’t be comprehended hmmm.

  9. Awwww….why is he married. I’m sure we would have had a Part 2 if he wasn’t. But nne ur description 4 d guy no b small thing….remain small him 4 b George Clooney abi na Brad Pitt….lol. Nice one dear.

  10. Wow! Nne m, i saw another side of me in you. Now i respect you more dear colleague. You are good girl. In fact, you had me thinking out the part two till my dog barked. Now, that’s wishful thinking. Lol.

  11. Please, please, please!Why does he have to be married enh. very beautiful piece. well written andd thought out. kudos Nneka

  12. Pingback: Wishful Thinking II | Neker'sNib

  13. Gah! This is lovely. Your descriptions are so vivid, it felt like I was reading right out a John Green or Sidney Sheldon novel. Plus mhen, that daydream na ekwa! Lool.

    I think I might be a new stalker from hereon.

    Glad I stumbled upon your blog! 🙂

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