The grey-haired man yearned to marry a girl who sorts bags in a flying car. Soon, Kambangane’s heart skipped because he couldn’t afford the berry-red cows for power. 

Soon, he sneaked into a young man’s phone and spotted her in a two-piece swimsuit. Suddenly, he missed his flat nose with the accuracy of a boxer’s punches. 

“How did she enter your phone?” He throttled a man wearing a short that hung below his buttocks. Kambangane practised juju, and her parents accepted white rabbits and red hens for the dowry. Of course, he married his soulmate in absentia with a cowpat decorated in a wedding dress. During the honeymoon, Rusuvero slept in his skunk-smelling bed and matched him like a lid on a three-legged pot. That night, she sprinkled the bed with smiling roses sprayed with cologne. The old lover tickled her with red and white feathers. In return, Rusuvero combed his lice-crawling hair and smacked him with App-downloaded kisses. The bed was covered with red duvets and white fitted linens. Kambangane squeezed apricot jam on her pink tongue before she blindfolded him with a red and white scarf. Immediately, the baby powder bouncing from her face made him sneeze. The old man sniffed the smoke of candles and pictured dancing flames burning the hut. This time, she hummed ‘It’s a Wedding Day’ by Brenda. 

Kambangane twisted his tongue at his in-laws after rubbing a snake’s tattoo between her breasts. Lastly, she peeled the scarf from his eyes, and he blinked at the littering roses that reminded him of the cemetery. His love vanished because their names were hand-sewn with red thread on rock-size pillows that looked like gravestones. First, Kambangane clenched his fists after she called him “Honey”. “Be my Valentine”, she hissed, her red lips rolled into an o-shape, and wiping sweat dripping from her eyes. Kambangane twisted her arms, but his knees became numbed when his sweat-dripping hands touched her sponge-soft body. 

“You’re cheating with Valentino!” he cried, his eyes raining 20 litres of glittering tears. 

“Honey …” she said, blocking sweat drizzling out of her eyes. In response, she rubbed her ballooned tummy with rippling movements and whispered, “We’re pregnant”. 

Suddenly, she strolled for a milk bottle filled with liquorice chocolates. Then she picked a snake-like bar and melted it on his tongue. 

In a blink, the dripping liquor from the chocolates drunken him with love. She peeled her rose-coloured pyjamas and slithered between the duvets, watching him sink to his knees. Strangely, a second bar of liquor-flavoured chocolate made his legs floppy. 

“Who’s Valentino?” he asked, chewing 40% vol alcohol-dipped chocolates. 

“Your unborn son,” she pranked, and their lips rolled like pythons around a forbidden tree. 

-Mungambue@gmail.com