ThursDay of the Dead

By Cbhojwani

Mrs.B & I had been back in Lagos a few days when we met with our first day of fasting and quickly learned that the African heat only intensifies a person’s hunger pangs. It was almost mid-day when little Mrs.B started moaning for food. We usually eat late in the afternoon and enjoy a coffee or milkshake to curb the pangs , but today was different.
I was looking out the window, pondering about days to come when I heard my petite wife enter the room. Her feet scuffed against the floor as she made her way towards me.
‘Here comes the food-moaning!’ I thought to myself.
I could hear her breathing inches away from me once the scuffing stopped. I braced myself for another round of groaning and considered breaking the fast early today when suddenly, I felt a sharp pain on my love-handles. Jumping away I turned around and looked at her in horror as I rubbed the fat that dripped over my waistband. Wide-eyed, she pointed at my stomach and squeaked;
‘Doughnut! YUMMY!’
ThursDay of the Dead

She leapt towards me with her mouth wide open hoping to take a bite out of my stomach when my shirt flew up revealing the hair on my belly.
‘SPRINKLESSSS!!!!’ she screamed before making another play for a mouthful of flesh.
I had always been a fan of Zombie movies but never did I expect Life to imitate art.
ThursDay of the Dead