Tuesday, September 13, 2011

CHAD (Part 1)

Chad.

He stood outside the Nation media center and stared right ahead. Things were not working like he expected. This was the third place he had visited. Who knew freelance writing would be this hard? He had graduated from the university a year back. He had a second class honor in Journalism. It did not serve him as he thought it would. Life was another lesson he was not prepared for. He crossed the road and made his way to the library. He had to read. He had to know what he could. He had been writing online articles and papers and that earned him enough money to get going. He still needed a job. He wanted to work at a media house. He had wanted to work at Nation media that seemed futile. They said they would get back to him. That seemed like an answer that had impending doom. He borrowed book on Archaeology. His latest assignment was on the ancient temples in Egypt.

He left the building and walked home. It was a long walk but necessary. He needed time to think. Walking helped him think. He loved her.

He knew that much about them. She belonged to him and he would prove it. She was not happy. She had been busy of late. She was an assistant for some company in town. They made almost the same amount of money. It's just that his was tax free. He made seven dollars per article. He wrote ten articles a day. His pay was greater than hers to be sincere. He made almost one hundred thousand shillings per month. He used at least twenty thousand of that on electricity and internet connection. All he did was stay home and write. He lived in a one bedroom house and paid fifteen thousand shillings per month. He had talked of moving for the past year. He couldn't. It was located near town and he needed that.

Something was wrong with her. Or was it him? She was too busy of late. Her words were muttered under her breath. If anyone saw them together they would think she was being coerced into the relationship. People change, had she done the same?

Chad walked home silently. He could not think about her, not now. It was the way she said it, "sweetheart, why don't you get a real job?"

What he heard instead was "why don't you be under somebody's authority?"

He heard her laughter in his soul. He could have flown to his apartment.



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