Tears or the Sea: Crux cordis

Antonio Mora

For the sheer pleasure of taking chances and a nod at spontaneity, he resolved ‘’otherwise’’. It had been years since the ‘’Liandri debacle’’ and he thought it was time for the cocoon break.

Pretty much misunderstood, he wasn’t your every day nerd. At 6ft1 he stood rather gallantly with pseudo-confidence. His demeanour oozing an air of IJGB. He was regular fine and hadn’t much to offer the girl who spent her days lost on the coast of the ''Joseph Benjamin Fantasy Island''.

Mostly reclusive, he relished his own company.
With a shy smile plastered on his face; like he was the perfect poster-kid for close-up, he decided, it was time. He was ready to make the hopeless trip to Cupid-Land again.

Skin tags freckled beneath his western visage like gusts of snowflakes in winter; he darted across the Aviation Social Centre Basketball Court with his back to the world, his mind sinking deeper with thoughts of work deadlines. He tossed the Spalding ‘’Never Flat Outdoor’’ ball as his phone began to ring. He rushed the conversation with his mom by committing to a trip to his parents' Gabonese country home, the following weekend, to meet ‘’Zuri’’. Zuri! He loved the sound of her name. His mom, who was drowning in the impatience of never arriving grandkids, had had enough. Zuri would be his wife and give her those grandkids she couldn’t wait to meet.

He quickly left the court humming to Marion Meadows ‘’saxing’’ in his head. The Accra traffic spanned its course on the drive to Rouge’s. Oh how he loved the view of Villagio in forced slow-mo. He made a quick stop at ‘’Le Must’’ to get her takeouts. Arriving at Rouge’s, he talked figures with her Couch Surfer friend, Valeria, in fluent spanish.
Lying on her favourite couch and as if oblivious to his presence, poor Rouge, went on and on about being kept waiting all day, at SOHO, by her narcissistic partner, Ato. Perhaps worn out from hearing the same story for the umpteenth time, her flatmate, Abena, retorted, ''Definitely an African man disease which has eaten deep into our core! Ghanaian men have made a constant habit of standing up ladies and offering no viable excuse at the least. I’m done trying, I’ll die a nun,’’ she added half-heartedly.

He enjoyed his Saturday evenings at their flat. The girls were ever chitty-chatty, disagreeing to agree, sharing ideas and constantly mourning short-lived relationships.
Liandri had been his sour introduction to that mourning phase. Their relationship, however, was not short-lived. It was a hot, hot mess which festered for longer than necessary. Liandri had been Rouge’s roommate at KNUST. And against Rouge’s warning, he had gone ahead to ‘’trap’’ the wandering soul ‘’in the name of LOVE.