9.
I had comfortably assumed the "sit-and-watch" position beside my brown NYSC bag. The clock quickly ticked 3.00 am. Darkness pressed on, both outside the room and within my heart. My old rickety rechargeable lamp blinked like an old Volkswagen's "trafficator", hardly pushing the darkness from inside the room through an unseen void.
My memories of a beautiful Christmas stayed soiled by particles of the text message I had received from the devil himself and a bleak thought of tattered "poultry-like" building that housed every Catholic Corp Member that was as unfortunate as i was. By this time, I knew I needed a war-song to chant on my way back; obviously, I had one, every smart lawyer always does.
About three hours later, I sat behind the wheels of my "Bull". I preferred to label this car that way...it told a lot of stories of struggle, it was about telling another. A 2000 version of Toyota Rav 4, which was certainly done serving it's term as a new car, but stayed focused as a cherished SUV. I turned the key in the starter, the engine revved to life and I began my journey back to hell.
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