Letstoriesunfold ™

               There was a rustle inside. The water had stopped. She opened the bathroom door slightly, peeking out.  “What do you mean?” I looked her in the eyes, and this time, my expression was different. The shadows under the bulb gave my face a subtle weight, like the memory I was about to share had never quite let me go. “The last time kuwa na water heater,    design ilinilima ka ghasia venye nilienda kuzima maji after nimemaliza ku shower nilijipanguza maji nikalala the whole day ju ya kuboeka.” Her hand gripped the doorframe tighter. I chuckled, but it was dry, not amused — grateful. The bathroom door opened fully now. She stood wrapped in a towel, her expression unreadable but softened. “Souley,” she said, voice quieter now,  “why didn’t you just tell me that from the start?” I smiled faintly, stepping to her.  “Some scars don’t talk, unless,  someone listens long enough.” She leaned against the doorframe, th...

                 I wasn't sure of how I was going to put this, but here goes. To be honest, I wasn't a big fan of cold showers, but there's a certain encounter that I experienced, changed my perception of it completely. I had almost forgotten about it, till a few weeks past, when someone's daughter mentioned something that made the memories come rushing like soldiers rushing out to battle.  I had been chilling with someone's daughter some weekend, doing some activities here and there, if you know you know, if you don't, forget about it. Hehe. Moments later, as I was scrolling through my phone, I heard her padding softly across the tiled floor — barefoot, towel wrapped carelessly around her, and she had this hint of mischief on her eyes. “Unajua,”  she said, voice mellow,  “showers feel better when shared.” I faced her slowly, not startled — just absorbing the weight of her invitation. She wasn’t smiling. That made it feel less ...