He Could Do as Little as He Wanted...(Zikora, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie)
With Dennis Da-ala Mirilla, Greg Philippi, Jennifer Nicole, Vanessa Walters, Gemma Weekes, Isaiah Weekes - June 29th, 2021
He could do as little as he wanted…
The plan was to do as little as possible. Hedonistic and irresponsible, I sat on the beach, bare feet, cocktail in one hand, while the rest of the world suffered from a pandemic. If it were the days in the sun, that is, when all we could still go out, I would have been on the boat with Sharon, gossiping about Derek’s botched nose surgery.
I sighed deeply. Even as I reeled from how my life has been altered, Derke still found a way to creep under my skin. When the hospitals open, I would get my nose done, just to spite him. To show him that I knew better doctors and could afford to pay for more cosmetic surgeries. I loved the vanity of it all.
As I read in that magazine about seashells, “It’s only an addiction when you can’t afford it.” I pulled my glasses back to my eyes and took another sip of the coconut cocktail.
By Dennis Da-ala Mirilla
He could do as little as he wanted…
He could do as little as he wanted. Satiated with the sanctity of protection he felt entering the church, Father Columnbs Greely knew they’d never find him unless, of course, he blew it and blabbed to the wrong person or made a move that might reign down suspicion upon him.
Columnbs ground his teeth in his sleep and woke with sweaty palms. He knew, and therefore, someone or something else knew damn it. Columnbs could imagine they all knew and all were aware of his flaws and moreover that he’d committed the murders. How could they though? Right, how could they? After all, he’d covered his tracks and was now posing as a deacon, and the locals felt he could do no wrong. Even the ladies of the village brought him baked treats and Shepherds pie. No one would ever know. Except for the damn owl that landed nightly in the tree above his sleeping head. It knew and would haunt him forever unless he could deal with it…
By Greg Philippi
He could do as little as he wanted…
Alright, Soldier, Happy birthday!
She always wrote to my soul, as the words stood still on the birthday card.
Whenever she was around, she always sprinkled the healing waters upon me. Either that or the salty waters from my eyes dripped down on the page in front of me.
It may have been a miserable day, but at least I got to have a well-earned break. One which I cherished after what I’ve been through.
Now Micheal wasn’t the quiet sort, but he definitely saw a few things no man should ever see.
“Incoming!” Harry shouted. It ain’t much bud, but at least it’s a taste of home. Harry was my best friend, couldn’t do any wrong in my eyes but his drinking was a problem and even he started to know it.
“Awwwh, the smell of Eccles cakes, just the way Nan makes em… Cheers Harry”.
Micheal was a tall, handsome sort. His silky brown hair always glistened in the wind. He was the kind most mothers dream of dating, but he only had his sparkly brown eyes and his sleek smile for one woman… Mary Jo
By Jennifer Nicole
He could do as little as he wanted…
He knew there were no expectations on him. He laughed inwardly. As a black man, no one really expected him to step up like that. He looked back down the road he had come. Its leafy trees, its brownstones the color of the clay he used to mold when he used to do all that stuff. If he never rang the bell - who would be surprised? Never opened the gate, walked up those steps. When she told him, her hand shook. It shook like her leg when they made love. But her face was straight. Her voice steady. And she said, “I’m gonna do this. If you don’t wanna be part of it, then whatever.” It made him wanna turn and go back, actually, remembering her tone. He looked up at the sky, cleared his throat, and pushed the gate open.
By Vanessa Walters
He could do as little as he wanted…
He could do as little as he wanted
And it was cool it was easy easy
Too easy moving through the world
Like a kitana through jello easy easy like
Barely landing his feet on earth graduating
From childhood outwardly spotless but inwardly
Flabby with no boundaries to define himself
Against you would think that such a man would
Be happy but only if you don’t understand anything
About human beings nobody wants easy easy
Easy the right school easy the big car easy the nice house
Somehow always a void at the center of the ease he
Filled with toys and all the most expensive substances
And not filled impossible to fill because the void
Was the space where he should have been but was not
The man who knew the contents of his own character
The man who knew the heft of his own muscle
He knew nothing but yes and sought more of it
and more was less until he was so wretched, he became president
By Gemma Weekes
A Watch That Controls Time
An earth-shattering yawn is the start to my day.
My crimson and obsidian watch glistens in an unnatural haze as the temporal energy bends the sunlight.
It takes me five hours to make myself an absolutely delicious three-course breakfast but, considering my peculiar situation, it doesn’t bother me. I prep everything I’ll need for the day. My watch helps me ensure that it is everything.
A familiar wave of confusion washes over me. “I still don’t know how this thing works,” I say out loud while examining my watch. “How can an object be outside of time and still be usable?” I wonder. But then again, I have an eternity to figure it out. I live every procrastinator’s dream!
A watch that controls time.
By Isaiah Weekes (14)