While They Played… by Aishat Elusogbon

He sat there, watching them play silently.

What he was doing was absurd, really. He had a lot of important things to do: there was a meeting by eight tomorrow morning he had to prepare for, and he had to report back to his boss on an assignment that was long due. But he couldn't help himself. So he sat there and watched.

He wondered which of them he'd kill first, and with what.

Sighing, he removed his phone from his pockets and began to unlock it. He'd been there for about ten minutes now, and it didn't seem like they would stop playing anytime soon. So he'd better find something more productive to do.

The fact was, he had no idea what force had had him sitting down there for over ten minutes without taking action. His mind had already killed them in twenty different ways and yet his body was as calm as though it was a normal day.

Whatever it was, he was grateful to God for it. Because with the way he was usually, he would have acted already.

As he began to scroll through unread messages, he plugged his earphones into his ears. The game didn't really fascinate him; It was one he'd played many times before, and it was a game one never played alone.

He didn't know how long he'd been using his phone before he noticed that the atmosphere had suddenly changed. Suspicious he looked up.

Sure enough, they'd noticed him.

He unplugged the earphones and returned their horrified looks with a smile.

Then he sat up, so he could see them easily.

Both opened their mouths to speak, but obviously couldn't find words. They were shocked, terrified, horrified.

He couldn't blame them though; he wasn't supposed to return until the next week, so their shock was warranted.

Then the elder of the two found his voice, and spoke. “We… we can explain.”

Rage.

We can explain.

We.

He swallowed something that was coming up his throat, and he had no idea was it was. His calm was gone now, replaced with pure, blazing fury.

“We” can explain.

He stared at them both for endless seconds, with thousands of words coming to his head, and none of thme making it past his throat.

Suddenly, he found himself standing, picking up his bag and strolling out, with the sounds of the hurried scrambling and dressing of his wife and his father echoing behind him.

The first tear didn't come out until when he went behind the steering wheel.