He’s trying to make it back home,

Seems life has him by the tail.

He’s had quite a day, concave like a bay,

Yet that goal pegged on the straight line is all he sees.

Alice was alone in the richly furbished living room, balancing firmly at the tip of a creamy leather coach, nursing a glass of pineapple juice.

Apologize to her,” Kwaku screamed at the young man, strangling him at the colour of his shirt.

Some passerby’s looked on and others beat the young man too, calling him thief, “apologize to her” Kwaku ordered again but the young man wouldn’t speak, looking distraught and dirty, his head bent to avoid more slaps from finding his face.