Sober Sundays
Sober Sundays
I really Didn’t Think I Could
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I really Didn’t Think I Could

#Prompt 70
5
Ron Lach

He was standing upright for the first time. His shoulders no longer bent slightly to the left like the weight of the world everyone begged him to not carry was somehow in danger of sliding off.  His flexed his palms and they did not ache. He stepped back from the waves crashing to the shore, suddenly aware of how angry they seemed. He didn’t make it here to get lost in the ocean or worse. First, he would need some covering. Then he would need to find out where ‘here’ was. There was no way to explain why he was naked.  There was nothing to hold over his body.  He looked around, contemplating what leaves could temporarily do the job. Another man dressed in beach shorts and a long scarf draped over his chest and shoulders walked out of the trees that towered behind him.  The man spoke first.

“Oh you are just getting here?” The man said it the way Nigerians spoke when they wanted you to know your problems have just begun without telling you your problems have just begun. It also didn’t seem like a real question.

“You’ll be naked for a while o”, he continued.  “When you start to remember, you’ll start to earn your clothes. Can you remember your name? I can’t tell you mine if you don’t remember yours. Never mind I’ll call you Adam because you look… clueless.” He paused. “Do you remember anything at all?”

The man, now Adam tried to think, “I just know things don’t hurt anymore. Things that used to hurt. They just went away.”

“Okay. That will get you a hat but you need to remember your own name to cover those privates.”

“Wait. I get a hat before I get briefs?”

The man shrugged, “Welcome to the afterlife.”

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Sober Sundays
Sober Sundays
Every Sunday, a new poem or story by Obii