After an prolongued bout of laziness, I finally got into an enviable workout regime that involved retaining my treadmill as a running tool rather than the clothes horse I have seen in other homes , as well as stepping with determination on my elliptical trainer, a stride worthy of your applause (so pls oblige), followed by a long brisk walk in the evening. However throughout all my huffing and puffing , I had also been disturbed by a constant niggling feeling that I was being watched, followed too, as I strode down the road every day at top speed .
Call it my imagination or call me finicky but I was determined to follow this suspician into the bushes. And lo and behold you non believers …there lurked the culprit..daring, wicked, jealous and mean!
4 months ago, in my tracks that fitted with less vulgarity and a tee that was a teeny weeny bit more flattering to the emergence of a waistline and a pair of firmer breasts, I plunged headfirst into a prickly rose bush and yanked him out by the collar…my resolve strong and undeterred , a daring and fearlessness unseen ever by anyone.
As I shook him mercilessly, screaming dramatically, “Who are you and why are you following me”, he smirked at me , no sign of guilt or shame, unperturbed and shrugged his bony shoulders as he proudly pronounced, ” They call me the Evil Eye”!!!
I died!! Almost literally!!! A shiver akin to 1000 volts surged down my spine, my legs buckling under me as I staggered to retain my composure and pretend that his jibe didn’t affect me any!! This was exactly when that offer of a course in dramatics I had waved off in disdain back then would’ve come in mighty handy so that I could pretend His retort had not affected me!
I spun around, launched myself away from him in a bid to save myself even as I cursed myself for not having learnt how to look nonchalant and in control when actually the ground underneath my feet had miraculously disappeared , my tshirt embarrassingly drenched in sweat and my legs wobbling more than my son’s favourite strawberry jelly!!
As fate would have it I didn’t get far and a minute later I found myself cringing and shouting out in pain as I heard a loud snap and sank to the floor, gasping in pain as I landed knees first on the rough tarmac !! The last I heard from my prisoner who had now become a captor of sorts was a loud guffaw that sounded suspiciously like a snorty taunting elephants fart as my ACL ligament twisted and strained rendering me helpless and a firm believer in old folk tales!!!
That cruel mocking laughter that rang out behind me is still playing it’s magic on my knee 120 days after that fateful evening , giving me nothing but pain…albeit I do now pocess a lamentable excuse to blame someone for not being able to get into all my jeans whose waistline buttons now sit 3inches apart from the loophole they struggle to make contact with in order to preserve my ‘izzat’ (read honour ) !!