THe wandering spirit

it had already achieved it's aim, It was ready to strangle Dr Vincent Stephenson to death that Tuesday afternoon if not for his wife,Linda, who came in from the marke

he sky, somewhere in owerri capital, it was neither red, pale nor gray, but magenta, like a forced ripped pa

e moon would chase the sun away and take the

nineteen in his red boxer's short and white singlet than well above forty, Which he was , He combed his hair , admired himself in the standing mirro

ut for the living room. He took the first,and the secon

th time since it's first appearance two years ago, when he ju

lied him with an eerie thunderous silence, "You are supposed t

you leave me alone and stick to hell, where you belong? Why don't you stop embarrassing me each

. His fury knew no bounds. The anger in him was li

He asked. He assumed he exuded bravery, like a man, bu

the day before that too, it was also there the previous and penultimate week, i

amed, and his voice ri

bedroom, bathroom, everywhere,every day, like an uninvited intruder, for the past two years or so, it

ghost was fast driving the doctor crazy, as

" He bawled at the spook and wondered whether spooks ever spoke. But he wished desperately that tha

Remember it wasn't my fault, it was yours, But now I want us t

was talking gibberish, " can you talk to me, please?" He pleaded, almost

giant gate, as if it was about to say something, but the mouth only hung a