“Well done,” was what I said as I walked back to my room from the kitchen.
I was walking back to lie in bed with her. She’s soooo fuiiiiinnnnneeee.
I like when I lie in bed with my books. They have become my friends; I tell them things. Lots.
And they tell me too. Oh! How they whisper sweet somethings into my ears and minds.
She looked at me, “Ehn?”
“Thanks,” she continued stirring the soup in the pot.
I say well done to her a lot of time. In my head.
I converse a lot with people. In my head.
My late grandma.
Future lovers and past.
Buhari. Lai Mohammed. Other politicians. I converse (to them — the evil ones) stuff like, “Why so evil? When would you have sense?”