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TAFREG HERITAGE

 

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We, the Webmasters of Tafreg Heritage, acknowledging the Supremacy of Science and Technology, respectful to our Website, which is our Workshop, and determined to sustain it for the benefit of future generations, committed to posting educational, philosophical, religious, political and infotainment materials, and therefore, to fully realize our purpose, and in order to form a more perfect online community, promote the general Welfare and secure the Blessings of Creativity to ourselves and our Prosperity, do hereby Ordain and launch this website as a Haven of our Head work and Hard work.

On the day his enemies wanted him dead, Moses was sleeping peacefully in his bed, covered with a heavy blanket from his calves to his thighs. Mosquitoes all over his uncovered bulky body, his mouth wet, spitting saliva like a flooded tributary pouring its water into the sea. His nostrils busy emitting poisonous gases like an exhaust of a ramshackle car. He was snoring loud enough to chase away the witches. Out there, the rain gods had smiled the whole night, and the dirty roads were as clean as paradise. Stubborn frogs could be heard all over the compound, singing praises and joy for the spring season. It was at this time when Moses realized that he was still alive, so he woke up. His eyes like a Chinese grandpa, he stretched himself as if he had a fight with some demons. He yawned three times, making some sounds like a hungry rat at the sight of a hungry cat. He went to the sitting room, forgetting to put on his trousers, and met his mother-in-law who had also forgotten to put on her wrapper. He didn’t believe his eyes. ‘She is very beautiful’ he told himself...

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A Short Story in Paragraph

Him and His Shadow

LITERARY WORKS
The House of Broken Hearts, Urban Twist, Notorious, Chains and Sashes of Power, Poetix, An Ugly Path of Success, A Letter to God, A Woman’s Heart, Interview with an Angel of Death, An Umbrella of Shame, Forgotten Weakness, Homes and Houses, Day Eight, Modern Enslavement, The Church, Tentacles of Nothingness, Traditions at War, Wicked Beauty, Stings of Loneliness, Him and His Shadow.
 
OTHER WORKS
King of Grammar, Rotten Democracy, Eyes of the Law, Ribs and Bellies, Men in Uniform, Sector X, Friends and Relatives, The Sacrifice, Freedom Gate, Nothing But War
He was in his mid nineties, wizened and shaken. A man of his words, the last of his kind, well known for his distinguished career, an expert in the art of mind reading and astronautics, famous for his cherish and love for young children; during his energetic adolescence, he made a successful space tour, for his father was a distinguished astronaut of his time; they travelled great deal merely to discover and explore. He enjoyed much sharing his vast experience of the past with the youngest generation, this character did not please his age mates, especially King Rhombus, and he (the king) always wanted to hear stories about heavens, stars and planets in the outer space. King Rhombus was a good reader of the Bible; he could read from the book of Genesis to Revelation over night, only to wake up dizzy the next day. He summoned all the witches and wizards of the land to tell him about the outer space, and none of them satisfied his majesty. Who could tell what happened to the magicians?
 
Just the other day, an old man sat and summoned his great-great grandchildren; he wanted to tell them a story about the land of the Nullifidians, the legend of the house of broken hearts. His Highness swallowed his pride and paid a visit, he also wanted to hear the thrilling story, but he met a frozen welcoming from an old man. So, he left the compounds and forced his way to a neighboring mansion. He sat there, all alone in the pavilion, a king of his own kingdom, a kingdom of one man. He really wanted to hear the story, so he sat there in isolation, he didn’t mind the decemberish weather and the giant mosquitoes. He just wanted to hear… children kept calm and listened, the old man yawned; he yawned again, this time with dry tears pouring out, moisturizing the contours on his cheeks. Before him was a tray of boiled sweet potatoes and a jug of condensed milk waiting for his Orangutan’s belly, the old man could not stop the inevitable, he was salivating, a sweeter bite to start the meal.
Prologue: The House of Broken Hearts
 

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