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The Nigerian Prince: Part One

Amateur writer: I've been working as a freelance writer for the past few months. These are some of my works of fiction.




On a cloudy, chilly, Tuesday evening, some minutes past 7, Jesse; a low-life, short-tempered ponce sets foot in a dimly lit pub and nervously finds a vacant stool for himself. He briefly exchanges looks with the bartender, a short, austere-looking fellow with a fine mustache before reaching in his leather jacket pocket to retrieve an envelope which he promptly lays on the counter.

Barely giving mind to the envelope "Is it all there?" The bartender inquires - vigorously polishing his glasses

Avoiding eye contact "C'mon, Vic", he murmurs nervously, "I got most of it… I'll have the rest Friday, I promise". He begs, trying his best to maintain a respectful tone

The bartender throws a glance at a brute at the other end of the counter who responds by grabbing Jesse by his jacket and landing a few hard slaps to his overly pale cheeks.

The stares and giggles from the others in the pub cause him a huge embarrassment but he won't do anything but take it and keep apologizing. Anything else would be a stupid miscalculation on his part.

"Have it ready by tomorrow, yes?" The bartender suggests with a low but threatening tone; both his hand firmly on the edge of the counter and a glare that drives the point all the way home

"Yes! Of course, Vic… Tomorrow, I promise”

The brute then drags him off the stool by the collar of his jacket and hurls him out the door; effortlessly.


Venting with a bruised ego, Jesse repeatedly pounds the front door of a small apartment; hurling curses at anyone who will dare look in his direction.

Betty, a tall, scantily dressed blonde in her early 30s, finally opens the door with complaints of her own

"Jesus Christ, Jesse! Can't you knock like a normal, human being?"

Jesse bears her no mind, pushing her to the side instead and straight to her handbag - Carelessly removing its contents and scattering them all over

"What the hell is wrong with you!?" She slams the door and stands behind him, her hands firmly on her waist "What are you looking for!?... Jess?!"

"Where's is it!?" He shouts to the top of his lungs. He then spots her knock-off Armani purse behind one of the cushions but she grabs it before he does.

"Give me the purse, Betty!" he insists as she firmly holds onto it, shaking her head in opposition

"I need this money, Jesse! Please..." He attacks her, grabbing the purse and yanking it off her hands as she screams in protest.

"You're such a fucking loser!" She utters with clenched fists. Her eyes reporting utter disgust and loathing.

This scornful remark is met with a powerful blow to the jaw; causing her to fall back and hit her head on the wall behind her before crashing to the floor

A prince

Betty comes to sometime later to a gentle breeze on her face and chaotic noise emanating from the wide-open door. Holding to the back of her head (with throbbing pain), she struggles to her feet before landing on the couch to recover from the attack

"Damn you, Jesse!" She murmurs to herself

Some moments later (feeling relatively better), she takes a hot shower, wraps a thick, warm towel around her, and returns to the couch where she sits for a few minutes; gazing at the door as people pass by in a chaotic fashion – Some take a moment to peer while others make a few comments but she can barely make out their faces nor their utterances

She momentarily thinks of slamming the door shut but decides against it: The gentle breeze is to die for. Eventually, she gets off the couch, finds and applies her makeup (black mascara and deep-red lipstick among them), dons a white, revealing dress, and puts on some perfume before heading out - Squeezing past a small group of people (strangers and somewhat familiar faces) outside her door.

"How are you feeling, T?" She hears a soft, familiar voice but cannot readily identify the source as she turns to respond – More eyes on her this time around. Regardless, she makes her way into the streets where brightly colored lights from every other building, vehicles whizzing by, conversations, and laughs among other types of sounds adorn the City Section with its characteristic motif - A vibrant atmosphere

Just before crossing the street for the heart of the city (where most of the action takes place), Betty spots a tall, well-groomed character in a loose, long-sleeve T-shirt and fitting khaki pants taking pictures of the architecture around him with a rather fancy-looking Canon camera - A tourist by all accounts.

© 2021 Kimani Maruge

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