Mr. A: Hey, where are you from?
Miss B: KOG
Mr. A: That’s my hometown! Never seen anyone around here from there. Wow, you’re my sister!
Miss B: Really? You really from KOG?
Mr. A: Sure, born and bred there. I guess that’s why you are so different, without blemish. How did you keep this way with all the rottenness and damages going on around here?
Miss B: It gets to me sometimes and it feels lonely too but I am surviving.
Mr. A: I feel you girl. I feel the same often but man must survive.
Miss B: Yeah, you’re right. How long have you lived in Strange City?
Mr. A: Just a few days. I arrived three days ago and it feels like forever. How about you?
Miss B: I’ve worked here for a couple of years and that is the real feel of forever.
Mr. A: That’s how it feels to me with all the dramas that explode here and there, moment by moment. The name is so apt and the people are as strange as their place. Aww home sweet home. I miss KOG!
Miss B: Yeah, I miss home too. And I think of all the things we take for granted there which are rarities here. Until you are away, you never fully realize that there is no place like home.
Mr. A: Definitively no place like home, and no home like KOG!
Miss B: You’re so right. And how good it feels, to have your own brother so so close.

Miss B, ecstatic to have been singled out for the blessing of finding her brother, someone from home, in a place so far from home, opened wide her arms and embraced the gentleman. Until you have lived away, so far away from home, you may never understand the excitement that goes with meeting someone you can call a brother, a sister. Someone who sees things the way you do, shares your values, and speaks the same language, in a place where everyone else is and lives so very different from the ways you were raised.

His voice was soothing, washing over her with relief that at last, she would no longer be alone. Every word he uttered was music in her ears; words of love and encouragement, words that promised a lifetime of care. All she was, all she has, hopes inclusive, stood as dwarves before the gigantic sacrifices this delightful man laid at her feet. And all she was, all she is, and all she ever hoped to be, she considered as naught as she handed them all to him. In the face of his magnificence, reciprocity was incontrovertible.

How do you hold back pennies from someone who promised such extravagance that will change your life forever? A man who holds back nothing from you; not his life, not his wealth, and not his regards. His all, he lays, at your feet, to enjoy, as you please. It doesn’t make sense withholding anything, right? No, it doesn’t. Common sense compels you to do likewise: lavish all of you and all that is yours on him. And that is exactly what Miss B did. Though she didn’t have so much to give, she opened her treasures in appreciation of his bounteousness.

That is strange for one who has lived these past years in Strange City, in guarded consciousness. Many troubles and tricksters have come and gone. Many residents have been robbed and killed but she has sensed every attempt and escaped every attack. She lived in constant watchfulness, alert to all the comings and goings around her, taking nothing and no one for granted. Safe as that kind of life has proven, it can be equally grating. And every day she battled the pressure alone until Mr. A showed up with all the right qualifications, so much more than she had expected in this seemingly God-forsaken destination.

At last, she gladly shed off all doubts and reservations and let him carry her on the wings of his love. She relinquished all watchfulness and heaved her trust in his care. All that was her life, her treasures, her all, she tendered in the hands of such a loving brother she could call her own. How great can life be! Relieved, she embraced a new life that cooed her to care for nothing. And not for once did he disappoint her. So far, life has been so good, such a pleasurable adventure.

And to think that she doubted him for a moment! That she allowed herself to be wary when he showed up. In fact, she almost didn’t give him a chance because he seemed at first, too good to be real. She didn’t even want to give it a try. But he persisted. She eventually let up an inch and now she is overtaken by overwhelming love from this same man she almost lost to “over-watchfulness.” Totally smitten, he took away her fears, along with all that bothered her. She quit her labors and striving to relish the surreal goodness of his munificence.

He secured this breathtaking apartment for just the two of them. Perched on the topmost floor of a grand building with over a hundred floors, the world turned to nothing beneath and heaven just a stretch away. The view is amazing, the air refreshing, and privacy top class – no one else could access their “Paradiso” as he referred to it – a paradise for just the two of them. Was she flattered living every woman’s dream? He wanted the best for her, the best with her: only her for life and she swam in the titillating streams of his adoration. Who would have ever believed, that there lived men like these; deeply spiritual, absolutely gorgeous, selfless, generous, adventurous, considerate, romantic: simply put, Mr. A had it all. And he had stamina in no mean measures!

They would watch the sun rise each day from their executive bedroom – the sight is ethereal! And every evening, they would sit on the balcony to observe the sun set like a few feet away – stunning! He loved to lift her off the floor, carry her in his powerful arms, and spin her round and round until she lost every breath in her lungs. At first, it was scary and she didn’t like the feel of it. That was not part of her definition of fun and she was not used to such. However, it seemed to make his day so she learned to let go of her fears and relax into him as he spun her round and round and round until eventually, she began to enjoy and to look forward to each experience.

On this fateful day, he wanted them to watch the sun rise from the balcony. He wanted them to get a different perspective of sunrise from that exulted position. She smiled into his eyes as he led her from the bedroom, through the sitting room where she stood a while, drinking in the blissful sights and furnishings that have become home to her. Will heaven be more beautiful than what A has provided? Out of nowhere, a fiendish fear reared its ugly head and she panicked at the sudden aura of filth in such a pristine environment – abominable scent that stirred thoughts of loss; of losing A, of losing all the beauty and glory she has become used to.

He sensed her fear and drew her into his arms. “What was that?” he queried in the kindness that has become to her, his tone? “Just a thought, what if I lost you. I would never be able to live without you A.” She whispered into his ears. In response, he took her face in both hands, raised her head so she could look directly into his eyes and solemnly declared, “You have nothing to fear babe. You will never have to live without me, okay?” She melted into him in agreement as he lifted her off her feet and headed for the balcony and the spinning began. With eyes closed, head resting on his shoulders as he spun, she relished the feel of him, the beat of his loving heart in her heeding ears.

The spinning was fun and seemed rather endless this glorious morning that she wondered, “Doesn’t he ever get tired of carrying me, spinning with my weight on his arms?” Life is awesome she concluded; no need to fear, and no need to bother about living without A, or any of the. . . . Strange. . . .

She felt strange. Something unusual. Bizarrely quiet. Dead quiet. Yes, still like death, like death. . ., where did such thought emerge from? It has been ages since she felt anything like this. No, in fact, she has never felt anything akin to the present strangeness. The endless spinning was over and all was cold and still like steel. Panicked, she opened her eyes to ask and the shock was earth quaking.

The look on his face said more than the precarious situation her eyes registered. For it was no longer the face of the brother from home that was before her. Hatred glared from the eyes that once adored her. The distortion made it seem like a mask but the similarity was undeniable – it was B despite the disfigurements. But not the A she thought she knew. Not the A she thought he was. Not the A of her dreams. This was the very enemy she has been running to escape. How did she end up in his trap, in his hands?

Fear crawled out from all of heaven and earth and formed a grave, waiting with jaws ajar, as she lay in his outstretched arms, dangling way off the balcony. Suddenly, heaven seemed so out of reach and earth so far below. The only thing between life and death yawning from beneath, the arms of a monster she mistook for a lover. She looked around, there was no way she could save herself. She looked up, heaven that once seemed to have become her abode now seemed eternity away. There was no sight of God or man anywhere around. No one will ever know what happened. No one could ever tell the story of her end, an end that she saw in the eyes of him who seemed to hold her life in his hands; him to whom her life matters naught; him to whom her prized love was just a game.

Have you ever come face to face with death? That moment you know that this is it, that you will not go beyond here and now. That moment when all the years past, present, and future all merge into one cluttered cloud of certain uncertainty. When you know where you are and where you are headed except for supernatural intervention. When you need all the help you can get and none is in sight. When you want a miracle so bad and see no way one can reach where you are to help. When a man assumes the place of God in your life, deciding your fate, your end. When all your regrets, triumphs, and dreams fuse into a flash of hopeless helplessness. The feeling is beyond telling.

For once in her entire life, she felt the taste of failure on her tongue and sighed: after all the effort to get it right. In that moment that seemed to last a lifetime, she beheld the visible features of hatred. People say, “I hate you,” but that is just an emotion. Hatred is not an emotion. It is a life of its own. Hatred is a person just like Love is a Person. And in that instant, in that delicate position, she saw hatred, felt hatred, knew hatred, but knew also that she will never be able to share the lessons. At last she asked, “Why?”

Not that she expected a response. She knew not how much longer it would take for oblivion to become her but before that involuntary exit, she needed to know. She wanted to go to the grave knowing why. “Why?” He retorted and she heard the consuming energy of enmity, “Why I should waste a lifetime on you? I told you one truth though and yet you missed it: you will never have to live without me! You thought you were a sacred treasure right? You thought KOG and your King is all and all; so much for home, where is He now? Can He come up here and save you from my hands? No, He won’t because He can’t. You broke the hedge now it’s the serpent’s turn. Don’t waste hope, don’t faith it, He won’t lift a finger. Goodnight Miss B.”

Few weeks later, at a lavish funeral where no expense was spared, the world consoled a generous man who adored his wife in life and in death. News hailed a heartbroken husband, who was woken up one unfortunate morning with startling news that while he slept, his wife decided to end her life by jumping off the balcony of their grand apartment and died on the spot. Families grieved, friends wondered, but no answers could be found as pieces of her shattered remains were laid to rest. Very few thought much of her as majority rallied around an inconsolable spouse who did not deserve to be treated as such. And screaming all the way from the grave, none could hear the cry, the defense, the appeal of her who was robbed. Like her, under the cloak of that hoax, they all went their ways – gulled.

Glory!