Joyce: The World's Ugliest Woman

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is such a remarkable short story touching the inner caresses of the readers' soul

Submitted: June 11, 2017

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Submitted: June 11, 2017

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Joyce: The World's Ugliest Woman

By

Zayol Meshach Terfa 07034806899 meshachterfa55@gmail.com

Award-Winning Novelist and Critic, Terfa has a Masters Degree in English Language. He is the  Editor, The Quarry Magazine, Gwarimpa, Abuja, and Lecturer, Fidei Polytechnic, Gboko, Abuja Campus,  and the author of Teaching and Understanding Made Easy, The Super Hero, The Local Champion..., Segmental and Suprasegmental Phonemes, A Course Text in General English, The Legacy of Our Forefathers, The Intellectual Saviour, Suspension of Disbelief.

Joyce: The World's Ugliest Woman

Until now that I write this, no single soul had any explanation of the why Joyce Jegim looked the way she did. She was a gargantuan question that remained unanswered even by sages and rocket scientists of the Science of Creation.

Joyce was so ugly that even the blind could tell that how excellently effortless she was. She had this gift of easily compelling one to activate the mood usually associated with people at a funeral. How the sight of her created this remained a mystery. But she had the kindest Soul that people didn't really got close to her to enjoy.

Joyce's head was like a fuel-drenched-napkin hastily wrapped around a sickle. Her forehead announced her arrival even before she was within the field of vision. Her nose always gave one an impression that they were undeniably in an antiquated, awkwardly wrong position. They always created an impression of intertwined ridges wielded into a cul-de-sac. When she was passing in our neighbourhood, my Uncle's dogs would position themselves in stark terror and wonder, as they look in this picture. If only they could communicate in a language of my understanding, I could have asked them what was that...

...Miss Joyce, when you came close enough, you saw her with spiky and ridged scales just around the forehead. But she had a keen eye for details and was quite visually distinctive. Her head was almost triangular, large and extremely flattened with multiple irregular scissor-like tubercles and clasps of skin as of a horn near the nose.

It was never my habit to look people in the eye and I had no emotional stake for eye-bow contact but when I helped her carry her bag to her apartment, I felt the need to return her proffer of acquaintance. She was so glad I could be so kind to show her such level of assistance and association. So as she genuflected to thank me, I looked into her face closely and saw that there were two barbells on her chin and two additional filamentous barbells at her lower jaw. The snout was long and tubular and when I saw that her upper strut was neither hooked nor notched, tears ran out of my eyes before I could hide my grief.

"Oh! Am so sorry Dear, I didn't know you had feelings", she said this without realising it.

"It's ok, I just remembered an incident that has always brought me to tears", said I.

"What incident?" She asked quickly.

"Miss Joyce if you won't mind, I would rather not talk about it....", said I, but was interrupted.

"In fact, I mind. Just tell me the incident", she demanded, almost authoritatively.

"Ok. If you insist, I am grieved realising how nice you are but is unfortunate to be this......This..... This ugly", I said, the words came out like a bullet out of a gun.

"What the fuck! You came here to insult me? I thought you were better than the world which ignores me daily ...” she thundered, her wheezy cackling voice rose higher and higher as she sandpapered me into a mute. A row of piercing teeth, though tiny, blackened and broken into stubs like old tombstones grazed down at me menacingly as I broke out with cold sweat. So was this then the end? I thought if this was the thought of a dead soul! In the faintest vision of my eyes, I saw the strutting rubbles of her veins aced up with cruelty as they raced up and over her dead-fish eyes like a scythe. A cauldron rumbled harshly in the corner of her bloodshot eyes, leaving off the most infernal and rancid vapours. Her monstrous lupine eyes, savagery and acidic, enlarged as she muttered poisonously arcane words as if from the frontiers of hell.
As if this was not killing enough, Joyce arrowed her eye brows and shimmered with the spite of a million years as she pined me with her gratering gaze. As if in a choreographed spontaneity, she timbered a leathery tongue around her thin, bloodless lips while she looked me up and down as my life flashed before my eyes..... and in a split second, I couldn’t remember what was happening or where I was.

 


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