Toby walked in a daze to into the bedroom, tears rolling down his cheeks. Victor’s black leather bound notebook caught his eyes, causing a torrent of tears. Picking it up,, he gingerly leafed through the pages of what turned out to be his best friends journal. Victor had recorded details of their time together in that black book. Reading through, Toby relived their lives together up till last week all through victor’s eyes; the quarrel with Rita, the breakup, the aftermath and how Victor had taken the fall for him. Toby let out a loud sob.
Toby turned the pages to today’s date. The entry for today was written with a pencil in Victor’s trademark viney cursive. It read
“I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck… I’m so so lethologic at the moment”.
Lethologic?
Toby knelt beside the bed and reached under for his drawing set. Flipping it open he picked out his pencil and eraser and then pushed the drawing set back beneath the bed.
He took the notebook and went to the dining table. He opened it to today’s entry and then put pencil and eraser to work.
He had better run over a truck instead.
His thoughts were complimented by the distant humming of a lawn mower that came accompanied by the uplifting scent of freshly cut grass. Damp was the word. The black notebook was damp with Toby’s tears.
Reality hit Toby. Your friend was hit by a truck and you are here moping around. A wave of panic crashed upon Toby as he jumped out the dining chair. He picked up his keys and ran towards the door. His phone rang again. Toby hesitated afraid of confirming his worst fears.
The gruff voice at the end of the line started.
“You sabi the person wey get this handset?”
“Yes, na my brother” Toby answered, silently quaking.
“He hit trailer today, he dey station C division. Come with bail money”.
Toby thought he heard Victor shouting at the top of his voice telling him not to come with any money. Toby smiled, took his wallet and keys, locked the door and headed for the police station laughing as he walked not minding the glistening tears on his cheeks.
Toby turned the pages to today’s date. The entry for today was written with a pencil in Victor’s trademark viney cursive. It read
“I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck… I’m so so lethologic at the moment”.
Lethologic?
Toby knelt beside the bed and reached under for his drawing set. Flipping it open he picked out his pencil and eraser and then pushed the drawing set back beneath the bed.
He took the notebook and went to the dining table. He opened it to today’s entry and then put pencil and eraser to work.
He had better run over a truck instead.
His thoughts were complimented by the distant humming of a lawn mower that came accompanied by the uplifting scent of freshly cut grass. Damp was the word. The black notebook was damp with Toby’s tears.
Reality hit Toby. Your friend was hit by a truck and you are here moping around. A wave of panic crashed upon Toby as he jumped out the dining chair. He picked up his keys and ran towards the door. His phone rang again. Toby hesitated afraid of confirming his worst fears.
The gruff voice at the end of the line started.
“You sabi the person wey get this handset?”
“Yes, na my brother” Toby answered, silently quaking.
“He hit trailer today, he dey station C division. Come with bail money”.
Toby thought he heard Victor shouting at the top of his voice telling him not to come with any money. Toby smiled, took his wallet and keys, locked the door and headed for the police station laughing as he walked not minding the glistening tears on his cheeks.
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