How do I tell Rosco about the problem in my stomach, and even if I tell him, the problem in my stomach cannot survive in this world, I cannot imagine sharing my house with a tiny thing. Inspite of my dizziness, I know that the problem growing in my stomach must not grow.
On another thought, how am I truly different from any other person, how would the problem be different from any other person, it would have all ten fingers and ten toes, it would be able to cry and smile like everyone else and like me.
Except it would be dubbed mad too and people might try to steal it from me, Rosco would deny its existence, no one has to tell me that. The future looks bleak with the problem growing in my stomach, at least without it, I know me and Rosco would continue our nightly activities as long as we can and nothing can never change that.
I enjoy what we do too much to let anything come between us, even the problem growing in my stomach, I cannot let it stop the bliss I feel when Rosco pounds me. I squeeze my leg together merely thinking about it.
Rosco to another person would be called disturbed and sick but to me, he is all I can ever ask for, he is good and even though he thinks he is the one using me, I am the one using him to reach my bliss.
When people pass by and cover their noses, I sometimes wonder why they do because it’s my house, it’s where I have come to call home, it’s where I smoke my hemp and sleep every day. These people always think that they are so different from me but how are they really different.
At least I have a home, most of them have no home, that’s why some of them come and carry prostitutes, if they were happy in their homes, they won’t come here at all.
I remember one prostitute who always stood at the side of the road, she was tall and fair skinned but her complexion wasn’t what she sold she sold her breasts, they were big, I can swear that in all my existence, I have never seen that kind of breasts.
She would expose it and stand by the road, she always came every night in different clothes, and each always showed them off. I remember her because she used to make the all the men, even Rosco stare at her.
She was the head of a pack because in every way she had the biggest breasts, so she always entered the finest cars, she entered one car one day and I never saw her again. Am happy because none of the other prostitutes can make the men stare like she did.
The problem growing in my stomach would continue growing and there is nothing I can do about it.
considering the limited words allowed, the writer kind of drifted towards the end…
Foluwaso, the crazy woman was supposed to be an observer from the beginning, she just kept on observing and she accepted her faith.
Am gunning for U̶̲̥̅̊ friend
Let’s go there.
Dat waz..hmm..grt taught..
You go girl, you rock….
It s wel with u bt i wil advice dat u change ur ways. Hiv-aids s real
9ice wrk, keep t up
Luvly… u’ve got da talent, d sky should b ur starting point…