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hort Fiction<br />
Story Short Story Short Story Short Story Short Story Short Stor<br />
hort Story Short Story Short Story Short Story Short Story Short Stor<br />
hort Story Short Story Short Story Short Story Short Story Short Stor<br />
hort Story Short Story Short Story Short Story Short Story Short Stor<br />
Torture<br />
Tafadzwa Dombodzvuku<br />
An epitome of perfection, a<br />
wholesome nourishing beauty,<br />
a paragon of virtue all packed<br />
in one, where the exact words<br />
to describe Elizabeth’s unquestionable<br />
beauty, which had the power to light up<br />
the world during a blackout.<br />
Even in the midst of her never ending<br />
troubled thoughts, the woman had a<br />
beauty that can conquer all. The smile<br />
across her face was gracious with a<br />
piercing sparkle in her eyes that any<br />
right-minded man could not miss.<br />
Since the time she came to live in our<br />
village, I tried the best I could to win her<br />
heart but she always turned down my<br />
overtures, saying, “I’m not ready to date<br />
a man.”<br />
The previous man in her life had<br />
done extreme damage and had dented<br />
her appetite for love or a relationship.<br />
Elizabeth had a son who was in the sixth<br />
grade. Like Siamese twins, they were<br />
<br />
to say the least.<br />
“If only you can give me a chance to<br />
love you, I promise to bring you the sun;<br />
you are a beautiful woman Eliza.<br />
“Each time I see you passing by, I feel<br />
<br />
beauty melts my frozen heart. It is only<br />
natural that I would fall in love with<br />
you,” I said in a sober toned voice.<br />
My efforts felt like trapping an elephant<br />
with a thin wire snare. They never came<br />
into fruition. She would always give me<br />
the same answer, but it did not deter<br />
my zeal or dampen my spirits. For me<br />
it would be a crime to give up on such a<br />
beautiful lady.<br />
In my elusive bag of tricks, I found<br />
that the best way to win a woman’s heart,<br />
especially, a woman like Elizabeth, was<br />
through loving & making friends with her<br />
children. So, I befriended her son,Tapiwa<br />
and tried to be the man in his life. The<br />
kid was a marvel to accommodate in my<br />
tiny antiquated designed heart that I had<br />
inherited from my deceased grandfather.<br />
“I appreciate what you are doing for<br />
my son, thank you for being a father<br />
<br />
man like you,” complimented Eliza.<br />
Her words encouraged me in my<br />
endeavours to win her heart. Her aunt,<br />
whom she stayed with, seemed to like me<br />
a lot and I kept on believing that one day<br />
I would win her over.<br />
Elizabeth was a beautiful woman, in<br />
her late twenties. She had come to live<br />
in Hurungwe after what she had told me<br />
was a “horrendous experience in Harare.”<br />
I tried in vain to have her open up and<br />
tell me her story but she was reluctant.<br />
Until one day, I met her aunt at the well,<br />
in her absence.<br />
Her aunt tricked me into pumping<br />
water for her so she could tell me more<br />
about Elizabeth. She enticed me by<br />
promising to tell me Elizabeth’s whole<br />
history and I readily agreed with my<br />
labour. I was very much inquisitive to<br />
hear about the story of ‘My Love’ and to<br />
<br />
her to despise men with so much vigour.<br />
“It is a long story my son,” she said as<br />
she sighed.<br />
“I have all the time in the world to<br />
listen tete,” I replied.<br />
“The situation is very complicated and<br />
I don’t blame Eliza for despising men. She<br />
endured excruciating, heart-felt pain, a<br />
pain she has learnt to live with. Not all<br />
woman can live with such a heavy burden<br />
but my niece has managed,” said tete.<br />
I was getting curious and impatient to<br />
hear the whole story.<br />
Tete was a very good storyteller and<br />
she knew how to whet the appetite of a<br />
listener before dropping the bomb.<br />
My patience was tested and my veins<br />
were stretched. The food was getting cold<br />
before we could consume the delicacy,<br />
quoting a popular local idiom, as her aunt<br />
toyed with my mind and my heart. She<br />
was taking her time, telling me of the life<br />
that Elizabeth lived<br />
“Stop beating about the bush tete,<br />
you know very well I love Eliza. Stop<br />
trampling on my feelings,” I said.<br />
“Can you grasp what I am about to tell<br />
you?” asked tete.<br />
“I can bear anything and everything.<br />
<br />
alter the undying love I have for your<br />
niece,” I replied.<br />
The conversation persisted as I<br />
<br />
white containers. I was sweating and tete<br />
was looking on, hesitating, as we say, to<br />
break and fry the egg.<br />
<br />
Page 44 The Parade - Zimbabwe’s Most Read Lifestyle Magazine<br />
August 2014