Water in The Sink

It's all Coming Back to Me, huh, Celine Dion?

Edward Masakhala was a fifty-year-old farmer, who lived with his daughter Natalie Masakhala in a little farm in the outskirts of the city. He lost his wife Nandi, to Meningitis, just when Natalie was about to join High school. He had loved Nandi. His daughter was in her final year of college. He loved soccer, and beer. He had an accident and died but miraculously came back to life.

I am Edward Masakhala. My book was starting to get denser. Those empty spaces of the puzzle were getting filled, even if I felt like the puzzle pieces weren’t mine. But this sense of clarity was short-lived.

A couple of months later, I started having these dreams…these out-of-the-blue-flashes, that felt like personal experiences. Experiences that I went through and not Edward. I know. I know. Am not making any sense right now but hear me out. Please. I tried ignoring them but they seemed to increase, not only in frequency, but also in number. They were more than just ‘dreams’ or ‘out-of-the-blue-flashes’. They felt like memories. One, in particular, bothered me the most. One I dreamt about often or flashed before my eyes more times than I would have wanted:

I was falling. Just that. At first, that’s what it was always about; but more ‘details’ got added onto it in every next ‘installation’. The ‘finished product’ was a lucid dream or flash where I was falling off of a ledge with my arms flailing about. On the ledge stood a huge beast with the uncanniest of features. Its overall frame was furry and animal-like but its robotic limbs made it look like something pulled straight out of a sci-fi movie. This 'detail' caught my attention. This 'detail' together with the fact that my right hand had that birth mark I was looking for. Yes, that birth mark that looked like a miniature Madagascar.