By Bunmi Oke
“Oh, you’re just in time, Sir,” wiping perspiration off his brow.
“How did it go with the client?”
“Not so pretty. Wouldn’t willingly give it over.”
“I can imagine. It’s understandable to not want to release personal info or things.”
“You’re telling me! Such a struggle it was,” sighing, “but I managed to,” producing a wrapped foil from the pocket of his ward coat.
“What the hell are these!”
“Contact…Sir,” sincere and cowering. “Thought you said to kindly collect her contact since she couldn’t wait.”
“Contact lens?!” shrieking at the intern ophthalmologist over what closely resembled a pair of gouged-out eyeballs.
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