FICTION: Chapter 9 – Adwoa


The sun rays hit her squarely in the face, it stirred her awake. She hadn’t slept soundly in a long time. The air felt warmer and smelled like…fried eggs…

“Fried eggs”, she smiled, with her eyes closed and inhaled deeply. Smells good.

She opened her eyes, taking in the spacious apartment. It was set  like a studio. There were no demarcations just a huge space with big windows. You could see into the apartment accoss clearly. The sitting area where she was lying seemed to be in the   Center of the space. To her left was a square wooden dining table, with two chairs equally as dark in color, it’s antiquity seemed to foil the stark setting. So was the yellow cushion she found herself in. everything else was white in color. She subconsciously thought of all the things she could do with such space. It really just compounded her confusion. Where was she? Right now she was wondering where the aroma of coffee and eggs were coming from. She tried to sit up, but she didn’t have to fully, because just above her the couch, she saw a bare chested man approaching with a tray in hand.

Oh no.. Adwoa thought because she had remembered.

“Ah… you’re awake, this is  for you, figured you might be hungry, I know I am”, he said in that bored voice, although not unpleasant.

“Hey, look..” She started trying not look at how very bare his chest was. Why doesn’t he put on some clothes..

“Yes I know, we had a crappy date and you’ll go back wondering if I took advantage of you. I didn’t.  As much as I hate to admit, it I was hopelessly drunk when I met you up. That was in poor taste. So breakfast is my way of making it up to you. Is that ok?”

She had nothing sensible to say presently. She  couldn’t shove it and eat but that would imply to this stranger that she was ok with sleeping in her apartment. On the other hand, the she knew she didn’t have the strength to war with the growling in her stomach.

She looked at him as he picked up a newspaper and sat across from  her. It was either he was good at pretending the circumstance wasn’t awkward, or he went to a lot of dates that ended like this.

Both theories made her angry. So she said, at this point control was key. “Can I use your bathroom, and if you don’t mind, I think I’ll skip breakfast altogether and head home”

She didn’t wait for an answer, and started towards the opposite direction.

The bathroom door is …


“It’s ahead of you, first door to your right”, he said casually.

He’s laughing at me. Git

Through gritted teeth, she  turned to face him and asked, “Do you do this a lot? Pretend to be drunk on dates so you can lure naive girls like me home ? Is that what works for you?” Are you trying to see what we look like in the day time with the screwed-up make-up on? Because I just don’t understand what this is..?

He started to chuckle. Adwoa could feel her face heating up. Infuriated because not knowing anything about the unknown man except  his name gave her no control. She didn’t know where the exit to storm out appropriately.

So she yelled instead.

“Who the hell do you think you are ? I had to drag your ass home from the street because you were puking all over the place and then you come here cook me breakfast like oh.. Guys puke on dates all the time. I think I deserve a better explanation about what was up with you last night? ”

He stared blankly, unapologetic yet

“There is no explanation, really, I simply got drunk. Never had it happened to you?” He seemed genuinely curious.

“But who goes on date..” She sighed, she was too hungry for this pointless argument . “Can I just use your bathroom, and I will be out of this place”

“Oh Fuck!”, She exclaimed too loudly. Adwoa had her dark brown lipstick smeared beyond the edges of her mouth and there… right on the side of her head, the hair-pin that was holding her weave was sticking out like a thin growth. Her mascara was doing no better.”Shit,shit,shit” she screamed silently into the mirror.

She knew must have looked positively like a wild cat on fire. “Breathe, Adwoa, breathe, you are probably never going to see this man again”

Composed and ever ready to flip him the bird, She came out and said to “Mark, I’m sure in another life, that we may never see, this could have gone a completely different way. I think you’re very uncivilized and plain rude to show up on a date drunk. I am sure you will understand if we wrap this up right here”.

She paused, unsure if she needed to be polite enough to let him respond. He looked blankly and said softly, “I’m sorry”

“Yeah, sure”,

She got out into the chilly New York morning air.

“So much for my first date with a white guy”, She said, breathing warmth into her cold hands.

SHE is a collection of short fictional narratives that represent different (love) experiences of Ghanaian women

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