IF THE SUN RISES TOMORROW WITHOUT ME

By Ebelenna Tobenna Esomnofu

                                 Coffee and Cigarettes 

IF THE SUN RISES TOMORROW WITHOUT ME

let my mother exchange flowers with my father at dawn and laugh so loud

the approaching cries on a green mountain are submerged 

because

this compound knows too many tear-soaked hymns

this compound knows too many rainbows torn down from the sky and thrown into a cave.

this compound is littered with fallen trees. 

If the sun rises tomorrow without me, 

do not publish my dusty book until I return 

but print the dedication: 

Mum & Dad: thank you for always taking me to a river that sings of our lord Jesus Christ. 

If the sun rises tomorrow without me, 

please do not allow my mother's tears to drench my few surviving photographs. 

Hey, Mum. At the hospital, your hands and voice shook so much with love and panic as you screamed: Call the Reverend, call the Reverend, call the Reverend! 

Mum, I swear, it wasn't their prayers, it wasn't the drugs, it wasn't even the hymns. Your voice, Mum. Your voice: it whooshed like a train through the valley of death to find me, 

a broken boy stumbling toward darkness, 

and returned me to light. Mum, can you hear me? if you, one day, decide to go before I go, I will go immediately. For what are sunflowers without the rain? 

And, Dad. Funny guy. You always try to convince me that the Ancient of Days used a golden brush to paint me. That the Ancient of Days calls me a lamp, but where's the light? But, Dad, keep praying for me: if I fly across the oceans, I will paint your name on the moon. 

And you, my Father who art in heaven, am I too dirty to say hallowed be thy name? If I run into a church this moonless night, can you hear my bleeding knees scratching the red rug, & my hand trembling at the glorious altar as I cry my confessions, cry my heartbreaks, cry my anxieties? Darling Jesus, this lonely flat is already a Cathedral vibrating with the voices singing of drowned men. Oh my darling Jesus, ask this choir of angels to stop the music before a lonely man, tired of turning to his window to hide his tears, will swallow these drugs and turn his mother into a poet. 

If the sun rises tomorrow without me, 

let my siblings get our parents drunk and turn off the lights.

                                          

Ebelenna Tobenna Esomnofu is the editor of book reviews at African Reed. He is a Nigerian, creative writing teacher, prose stylist, elocution coach and poet. After winning Storried Flash Fiction contests repeatedly in 2016, he took writing more seriously. He was longlisted for the 2019 SynCity Short Story Prize, longlisted for the 2020 Commonwealth Short Story Prize, longlisted for the 2022 Commonwealth Short Story Prize, and longlisted for 2022 James Currey Prize for African Literature. His previous publishing credits include literary works in The Sears’ Craft(print), The Scarlet Leaf Review, The Kalahari Review, StoryZetu, Brittle Paper, African Writer, Fiction Niche, Praxis Magazine, Elsiesy Blog, The Daylight(print), DNB Stories, Tuck Magazine, Storried, Afapinen, Ngiga Review, and elsewhere. His debut novel, MADNESS, has been completed.