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Paradise Street. Chapter Three.

A novelist, poet, motivational speaker, and love coach. I love living life in the present.

Chapter Three

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Linda stood by the window in her duplex, trying hard to see what was going on in the compound of the new neighbors the three musketeers has gone to.

Oh please! She exclaimed as she saw her husband George, and the others helping the new neighbors move in. They are just trying to scoop around, look for things and hear stories of these people, and turn them into books and articles and poetry. If only they knew these men are writers and how crazy they are; they won’t even let them in.

Nike returned to stand by her laughing. If only the people on this street read Ayo's poetry; they would see their very lives in it.

Nike, since we moved to this so called paradise street my George has become more crazy than before. He doesn’t even have the time anymore to make love to me, because he hardly sleeps. He is always on one stupid article or one crazy painting, or having night writing discussion tips; as he calls it, with the boys. She said using her fingers to column the “night writing discussion tips’’ it’s irritating! Common Nike tell me, how do you cope? She asked moving away from the window to take a seat.

Linda, you have been married to George for ten years now, just as I have been married to Ayo for ten years and you still ask me how I cope? The only difference is, we have kids and you don’t. It’s more or less the same way we cope.


Common girls let’s face it; my case is even worse! Rose echoed her entrance as she walked into Linda and Nike, in the master bedroom Linda shares with her husband.

Turning around, Nike exclaimed “and here comes the queen of the writers wives''.


Linda got up to hug her. How did you get in? And how did you know we were here? She asked coming out of her embrace.

Your gate wasn’t locked. Your front door wasn’t. And I heard from a neighbour that those crazy writers were welcoming our new neighbors as they always do. Judging from the location of the house, I knew you girls had chosen this view. And this is our gossip room remember? She concluded smiling.

Yeah yeah , since George had forsaken it for his painting room, what was I suppose to do with this massive bedroom? If not gossip about him here. George was the one who left the gate and door unlocked. I and Nike were already here. She said going to sit on her bed next to Nike.

But lets face it Rose, your case is worst. Nike told Rose, suddenly feeling sorry for Linda. She was more closer to Linda even though she and Rose had been on Paradise street long before Linda moved in with George.

Yes, yes Nike I know that. And that’s why I couldn’t take it any longer and I had to tell Emeka to choose between writing and me. And yes, yes, he chose writing! Let me use his exact words “writing is my passion I cannot do without it, and if after twenty five years of marriage, with five kids; you still feel unbearable concerning my dedication to my writing career: we should get a divorce”.

Finding herself a seat on a chair close to Linda's bed where Nike and Linda sat as it has always been; with Nike’s protective hand over Linda’s shoulder most times, and Linda listening closely to every word coming out of the “queen of writers wives” mouth, to see where and where she would apply it in her “miserable but still sweet loving marriage” as she calls it.

Rose continues, more poised than ever on her seat. And yes, you all know me. I entered the train of divorce. And here I am with you two lovely women, sitting in one of thems four bedroom duplex, who lives beside my crazy writer husband; whose house he bought when we got a divorce. I am still never going to forgive George for offering to sell his bungalow to Emeka. Now I have to deal with still seeing him everyday and still continuing the same routine of gossiping with you two over them. She ended her speech with a deep breath.


But men can be really crazy. How can he just throw away twenty five years of marriage just like that? Linda asked the same question she had always asked Rose anytime she wanted to comfort her.

No Linda, you are getting it all wrong not men, but writers! Rose cautioned her in a hurry. With a look that said; “haven’t you been listening'’ if only the publishing company knew the real cover stories should be that of the writers lives themselves; they would make trillions.

You are right Rose. Only we writers wives know what we go through by being married to them. I wish I could tell the world! You know what Nike? I totally agree with Rose. I sometimes wonder if a female writer would be so mad like a male writer? I don’t think she will allow her marriage fade away because she is a writer. Linda concluded then going lost in her thoughts of what her main problem in her marriage was.

She needed kids. And she blamed George for not giving her kids in this ten years of marriage because he is so busy writing. She knew deep down that George’s career was not to be blamed, but Rose had made her use to doing that. She admired Rose and her confidence, she wanted to be like her and also not like her. She loved Nike's kind, loving and patient and motherly nature. But she didn’t want to be like her; she was close to perfect and that scared her.


Linda dear you have been so quiet. Nike’s voice brought her back to room consciousness.

She noticed Rose had gone over to the window to look at the new neighbors whom the three musketeers were pretending to help out. At least that’s how Rose would have put it “pretending”. Nike, let me get us something to drink.

Okay, will help you out. Rose you want to come? Nike asked.

Nope, let me stay here and help out with surveillance. This new neighbor's wife looks catchy. And Emeka seems to like her.


That comment set a bomb on Linda's heart. She felt, something worse was about to happen on Paradise street.


Will Maggie join the three wife's? Or their husbands?

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© 2020 Jade George Anibor