PART 1 - DARK EDGES

 Breakfast never started this late for me. My crusty knuckles, sluggishly swabbed, crumbs of dry mud, stinging a burning sensation onto the few millimeters, of distance between my eyelashes and the surface of my soft and mushy eyeball. Cracking of bones, broke into the air, after I swallowed the pain of the aches in the muscles of my neck to see, the blur of rays, grabbing the horizon of my sight, like a thief's grip on a newly stolen item. They seemed to be bright multi-coloured circular lights, shooting sharply focused rays, with the precision of a well-trained marksman, which showed no mercy by easily breaking the protection of my eye lashes. Crickets, harmonized the murmurs that buzzed, when I tried to wake up. The number of staggers could be counted by each grain of sand in the Sahara desert as time passed by. Balance seemed unachievable, but the slight grasp of a smooth, silky surface, teased the tingling of hope, that had been buzzing around my consciousness, like an evading housefly. "Ahhh!" A lady's scream, caught me, in my half-split standing stance, which was followed, by a knock-out winning punch, that, could rewrite the laws of physics, and a few facts about the anatomy of a skull. Mud, artistically created abstract painting on the sides of my face.

"YOU!" An angry shout, attempted to squeeze itself through my confusion that had become, a proper test, for a medic intern to portray their skills in diagnosing my problem. Short murmurs became louder, as though, volume was being added on a television set. My mud sculpted abdomen, attached itself to the ground, for a brief moment, before, I was dragged like a fresh hunt in the savanna by a skillful predator. "Anngh!!" I groaned in pain, after being thrown onto a cold, hard edged, chair, with a loosely held light bulb that lit, the center of a store room. The clicking of shoes, echoed loudly, into the atmosphere of the room, for a few seconds, as I tried to capture my persistent crawling sensations of pain that, danced and pranced on my facial nerves, embracing their celebration to have been welcomed to my face. "It's been weeks Makindo. . . Weeks!" Kaminzo said. The chair clanged on the wall as the dust arose, like a smoke at a campfire. "Ahh.... Mmmh!" I uttered. "TALK! DON'T PLAY WITH ME!" Kaminzo's anger grew and his alcoholic breath and waft of cigarette scent from his clothes, punched the cough in me that struggled to leave my throat, while still in my sluggish state.

Kaminzo, walked around, with slow strides around the table, before either of my breathes could catch up with them. The suit he wore, needed to be paid a salary like his henchmen, after being stretched by his obese frame, and further more the anger that raised his heart beat. Before, I could finally, capture my composure that slipped out of my hands like soap, the henchmen struck the table with blades, as Kaminzo, lit his cigar. "You're on thin ice Makindo, so is your family" Kaminzo said, as he left and the room went dark.