"... You know, you don't exactly look like one of them. What's your name again?"

"Udeme," she tried to hide her anger as she moved to and fro the kitchen picking up and washing the dirty plates.

"Look, I said I always dress this way whenever I'm at home. I didn't expect 'this' to happen today." She emphasized, thoroughly scrubbing the plates and wishing she could scrub Chris's mouth with the iron sponge in her hand.

"It's not what's on the box that matters, it's what's in the box right?"

Chris grinned.
He eyed her from neck to knee, looking ferociously at the fleshly thighs beneath her denim shorts and her flat stomach slightly visible through her blouse.
She moved uneasily to the dustbin, aware of his stares. Chris balanced himself on a short kitchen stool next to the door.

"So," He dragged, "I thought the Bible says one shouldn't push another to sin."

"Am i?" She froze and gave him a cold stare.

He noded petulantly. Aware that he was getting on her nerves and also enjoying his uncommon success in getting her to talk.

"Well, what does a juju-carrying-bible-paraphrasing guy know about God? I bet you also know Matthew 18:9." She hissed, trying as hard as possible to maintain her cool while wiping the ceramic plates with a clean cloth.

"And if thine eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee: it is better for thee to enter into life with one eye, rather than having two eyes to be cast into hell fire, Matthew 18:19." Chris smirked.

"I stand to be corrected then. A juju-carrying-bible-quoting ..."

*Gun shots*

Immediately, she scrambled towards Chris holding his waist as he himself within a mili second had already crawled under the kitchen cupboard. Silence. They listened for sounds of the armed robbers. Suddenly conscious of their awkward position with her hands  on his waist, she struggled to her feet and stood up, towering him.

"Get down! Get down!" He whispered hysterically.

"The robbers are still out there how can you be standing? For all we know they could've scaled the fence and right now be pointing a gun at your head from behind the window..." Chris babbled. He trailed off as he realized he had been making a fool of himself. She was looking at him, smiling.

"What?" His eyes burgeoned with fear. She let out a little chuckle as she assessed him sprawled up like a cat on the tiled floor. He was obviously shaken up by the gun shots.

"What do you think about God, Chris?" Udeme's smile softened.

"I'm not talking about your charms, I mean Jesus." She said.

Taken aback. He forgot about the armed robbers and sat up on the kitchen tiles. For once, he couldn't remember ever being asked a question so direct as that.
He shot her an angry look, his eyes were bloodied. His fear was quickly replaced by something else, something more dreadful.


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