Chiamaka Udechukwu

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Apr, 2020

Stories (3)

3 Stories

42 karma pts

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“Ally of roaches” by Chiamaka Udechukwu

Submitted to Contest #42

The insecticide lingered all through the night but didn’t manage to defeat the squad of disrespectful cockroaches that tormented us in the kitchen. Knowing what to expect, I tiptoed through the court yard with my brown flip flops tightly gripped in my fingers, ready to smash the first few unassuming pests to catch my glance. I used the side of my hip to push the door open. I tried to be as gentle as possible but the rusty bolts had its way of betraying me; my other hand was too busy hoisting the kerosene lamp so I had no choice. My should...

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“Left right behind” by Chiamaka Udechukwu

Submitted to Contest #37

I hated seeing him squeeze his face at every sip of the glass. I had watched him long enough, but I never got used to it and neither did he. We both felt the bitterness in our seperate ways. He, in his mouth. Me, all over. I didn't think he'd cope this long with the bitter slob. If we were still together, I'd have made him mix his broccoli smoothie with a little cream, or honey, or anything sweet. I craved to relive the good old days. I missed his smell, his feel. I have only managed to feed my eye...

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“Maybe, just maybe” by Chiamaka Udechukwu

Submitted to Contest #36

Dear Diary, It feels like Christmas, but there are no cheery songs or sparkly trees with neatly wrapped presents beneath them or freshly baked Christmas muffins or that harmattan smell that comes only in December. It feels like my birthday. I would have convinced myself that it truly was, but my birthday excitement usually ended after I've had the last piece of cake hoarded in the freezer. For weeks, I had watched to see if the fluttery feel would fade, but it has grown exceedingly. The more I stare at h...

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Author bio

I write to love. I love to write. Chopsticks come in pairs. One complements the other, and together they do great things. Similarly, the creative aspect of writing complements the practical aspect of my love for it. From writing love letters to writing poems that speak directly to the soul, I get a deeper understanding of the power that love and writing possess, a power that shouldn't be underestimated. Writing, to me, is a disease I can't stop: an addiction I don't want to let go of. It's like breathing. If my doctor told me I had six minutes to live, I wouldn't grieve, I'd write a little faster! I write to love, and though I'm not perfect, I write because there's no greater joy than the joy of telling the world that untold story.