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MICHAEL WEST'S JOURNEY FROM TORMENT TO TRIUMPH ISABELLA IS PREGNANT
“Do you mean she never told you?” Dr. Kyle wore the question on his face.Michael shook his head, slowly. He was still shocked at what she had just heard. The doctor pulled him aside and indicated for them to take a walk along a lonely corridor.“Isabella is pregnant for you’ he said, ‘that is partly why she fell down. We are worried about the injury on her head. Her brain was not affected but we shall not know the extent of the wound until a few weeks from now.”“She never told me about the pregnancy. Is she going to be alright?”“I am afraid, I cannot answer that now. However, we are keeping her under close observation and will release her when we think she is fit to go home. In the meantime, please don’t bring her any distressing news now. She might not be in the right state to take any. Try to spend as much time as you can with her.”“Okay. Thank you, doctor.”The doctor’s face was grim when he nodded in acknowledgment and walked away.Michael walked back to the wards and after as
MICHAEL WEST'S JOURNEY FROM TORMENT TO TRIUMPH CIGARETTE
As their lips met in a scorching lip lock formerly more, the world sounded to fall down until there was nothing left but the binary jiffs pounding between them. Michael and Isabella cleaved to each other amid the ambrosial blossoms, bodies intertwined, souls incorporated into one transcendent substance. He was drowning in the intoxicating wispiness of her mouth, the delicate floral scent of her silken permanents. Each part of her nimble fritters against the tense aero planes of his reverse seared through the thin fabric of his shirt, imprinting him with her possession. This was madness, he knew- losing himself so fully in her beguiling snares. Yet Michael set up he did not retain an ounce of restraint to repel Isabella's hot rush. Not when her very actuality awakened solicitations so primitive, so each- consuming that he felt trolled of every history hurt, every moping shred of bitterness. In Isabella's giddy grasp, he was revived. Remade into commodity satiny, sharper, more magnifi
MICHAEL WEST'S JOURNEY FROM TORMENT TO TRIUMPH MICHAEL WEST
Mr. Donald looked tired, more tired than the last time Michael saw him. His breathing was laboured but when he turned and saw me, he smiled.‘How are you dad?’Michael calls him dad now. Mr. Donald turned from his position and faced Michael, then answered.‘I feel okay but the doctors say I have to be tied to these things for the time being.’He loved the man now more than before, more because of his fortitude in bearing the pain of the chemotherapy drugs. The doctors decided to start the treatment immediately, saying it might give him a better fighting chance. The old man hasn’t told me his diagnosis yet. When Michael asked him why he wasn’t going home soon, he called it a small complication. ‘How are you my boy?’ he asked. Wrinkles etched on every corner of his face. I don’t know if it is because of the pain from the medication or old age.‘I am a good papa. I have good news.’‘Really? Tell me about it.’‘I am getting married next Saturday.’‘Well, that is great news. Who is the lu
MICHAEL WEST'S JOURNEY FROM TORMENT TO TRIUMPH A STRONG ULTIMATUM
It was the middle of the week and Michael was staying long hours at work, trying to get a solution to the economic crisis in his company. Many of the workers have resigned and many shareholders are selling their shares, lowering the market value of the king's donaldation in the stock exchange market. Many economic analysts and journalists have predicted that things will go worse for donaldation if nothing drastic is done about it. Michael was reading the newspaper of the day in his office when Cynthia, his assistant, knocked on the door and asked to see him.‘Come on Cynthia.’ Cynthia walked briskly to the desk. She was smart as usual with the same professional outlook she had had since the first of their working together. Michael asked. ‘I thought it was past working hours. Why haven’t you gone home?’‘I was putting together the reports sent by the various team leaders and managers of donaldation for you.’‘Okay. But you can do that tomorrow. You should go home to your family.’‘I w
MICHAEL WEST'S JOURNEY FROM TORMENT TO TRIUMPH THE WORK
Michael stood in the same spot that he stood when Mr. Donald talked to him. He felt a surge of anger surge through him that he fisted his hands. It wasn’t his fault that the ship sank or that the factory in the Middle East was raised to the ground. Sometimes things like this happen but why is everyone thinking that he is the cause of all the bad things that have happened? He remained in that position until a servant came to tap him on the shoulder.‘Why are you still standing here?’Michael looked him up and down. This servant must think himself on the same level as me for him to talk to me like this, Michael thought. He didn’t respond to the servant who stood there waiting for him. It was past hours and the servant wanted to lock up for the night, that was why he was standing there, waiting for him. Michael steadied his hands and walked out of the room and out of the house. The air outside was clean, thanks to the many trees that were in the compound. Breeze blew gently on the trees
MICHAEL WEST'S JOURNEY FROM TORMENT TO TRIUMPH A CHAIN OF EVENTS
The door of the office opened and Clara walked in. She was holding a gun and pointed it at Michael. Then she said,‘Good evening, Michael west.’Michael turned and looked at the door. He saw it was Clara and stood to ask her why she had come to his office after hours but then he saw the gun. Michael understood what was about to go down. So, he dragged Cynthia by the arm and shielded her with his body. Clara shot multiple times, shooting at the furniture, the computer and at the walls, trying desperately to get to Cynthia. She had come to kill Michael, thinking that he was alone in the office. But when she saw Cynthia dancing with him, though not provocatively, she grew jealous and decided to shoot and kill her.A guard had seen her when she came in. the guard had asked her where she was going and that it was past office hours. When he turned to answer the phone, she was gone. The guard realised that she was on her way to the last floor and suspecting that something was fishy, decided
MICHAEL WEST'S JOURNEY FROM TORMENT TO TRIUMPH MICHAEL ’S MOUTH WHICH MADE HER SMILE
After all has been said and doneThe conference room was tense. Isabella sat directly opposite Clara while Diana sat at an angle between them. Together, they formed a triangle. The table between them was white in colour and had a recorder on it. ‘Why are you doing this?’ Isabella asked; her voice calm and menacing. ‘I beg your pardon?’ Clara said. She clutched her bag and stood up, getting ready to leave. ‘Why are you giving this testimony about a man you supposedly loved and cherished?’‘I never said I loved him. I was going to. Maybe I would have loved him if he treated me right.’ ‘But what you are doing right now can be said to be character assassination. Do you know that?’‘I am not attacking someone I did not know. This man knows me, wooed me and dated me for almost two years.’‘Did he promise to marry you?’ Isabella asked.‘We were getting there?’‘Then what went wrong?’‘Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It is what he does. When he has used you for a certain time, he just breaks
MICHAEL WEST'S JOURNEY FROM TORMENT TO TRIUMPH FATE
When they eventually parted, it felt as though a tone had passed in the span of many superheated moments. Michael plodded to reclaim his capacity for rational study amid the whirling, lust- dazed storm of his mind. Questions, vague worries, transitory dubieties flirted around the hazy fringe of his psyche, no way relatively resolving into a coherent shape before dissolving formerly more under the searing brand of Isabella's closeness. " We should." he rasped out, the sound of his voice little further than clay and sin,” We should go to a private place to talk. It is so important I need to ask you to understand." Isabella incontinently shook her head, that unruly groaner mane swaying with the vehement stir," No talking, no questions. Not yet." With passionate insistence, she pressed herself indeed more completely against him until her supple angle smouldered to every tense manly angle. The undulating warmth of her body burned a raging conflagration in Michael's blood, his hands dispe
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