First there was an axe, it fl ew past me, narrowly missing my left ear. Then I knew Jesus’ father, a man called God was still with me. And then there was something which pounded heavily to the ground, missing my right foot. It was too dark and the stakes were too high, I had no time to check which “weapon of mass destruction” was thrown at me. I concluded that it was a heavy-duty hammer, the one they call sledge-hammer. Imagining how it could have left my brains scattered all over had it come across my head, I went into turbo-charge mode. With my trouser on one hand and the shirt on the other, I ran as fast as I could. I am still trying to fi gure out how I came out of that small window, but I did.
Small-house! However, my supersonic speed was not in any way changing the prospects of the danger I was faced with. In my full fl ight, I still had an assortment of ardware to deal with. There was a rake which missed my head but just brushed my hair. And then came a spade which was accompanied by a pack of nails all looking for one thing; my head. They all missed it. For the sake of civility I will not mention any of the words that formed part of the language of this event. I leave it for your imagination. In your great imagination make a conclusion of what I could have become had he been able to catch me. I cannot remember how many times I pinched myself
the whole of last week just to make sure I am still alive. Small-house! Never ever mention that word to me again. For those of who you do not know, the name “Small-house” sounds like an architectural term but as a matter of fact, it is not. In fact, it has nothing to do with buildings, particularly their sizes.
Depending on your moral gauge, it is a polite or impolite way of referring to a mistress. They call it “small-house” but you will be surprised by the powers it wields. In fact, those in the know will tell you that it has more controlling powers than the “Main-house.” Most decisions are made and approved there, and go to the “Main-house” just for rubber-stamping. They say never say never, but I swear I will never set my foot in that house again. After the near-death escapade, I would be suicidal if you could ever hear the word “Smallhouse” come out of my mouth again. I am very lucky to be here with you, that man nearly took my life. You see, if you are no longer interested in life, try another man’s woman. I can assure you, your days will be numbered.
When it comes to a woman, even the worst coward instantly becomes a gladiator. He can take any Goliath without a second thought because another man’s “Small-house” is another man’s “Main-house.” For complaints, compliments, comments and threats; email: firstname.lastname@example.org They call it “small-house” but you will be surprised by the powers it wields. In fact, those in the know will tell you that it has more controlling powers than the “Main-house.”