One Night Stand Child

ntja betheng wrote:

spielberg got nothing on u son monna o masepest o re betsa ka suspense ya lefatshe

hahaha, o mobe motho enwa ka suspense ntate, le hona tjena ntse re ipotsa hore na ho fedile kapa e tswela pele jwang.

ke eitse a aka tsoele-pele re utloe!

Khomokholo wrote:

An agreement was reached, throuh those tears, to pay for the medical bills, to come and visit often. I layed out my rules as well, no phone calls unless it was utterly necessary as I was engaged to someone whom I would not want to know about our arrangement.
I left that place half of me left in that house, half of me crying bitterly about the babies I have aborted with my fiance. The pain was even worse now that I have a child with someone I did not love, a child I swear was mine. I was convienced beyond reasonable doubt that she was my own, how I cannot tell you. Back home my now barren girlfriend was patiently waiting for my call, to tell her that I was coming, to give her love and tenderness. Back in my mind a disable child awaits my love and care, I was torn between two hard places. My sould was reaped apart, my heart was bleeding for the mistakes that I would not be able to correct, by the sin I would not be able to forgive myself. I cried, sitting in my car, for the things I should not have done, for the words I should not have uttered. She was after all my fiance and she was after all my one-night-stand child.

What happened after you have calmed down? I must say you write well.

ha ke hopole ditshwantshiso tsa radio Sesotho mehleng ya teng. hee boqapi ntse bole teng atsea!

hmmm,true or not empa u ntja sani,what do u do bophelong boy i'm interested.what a talent.

U sengoli monna Khomo-kholo. Talenta ena ea hau e hloka hore u e sebelisetse hore e u jese. Joale 'na joaloka kaha ke le setho sa buka ea baeletsi, ha ke u khothalletse hore u phele bophelo ba mafate monna, bo kotsi. U phuthele mokatsana oono oa hau ka khohlopo ha u etsa thobalano mshemane. Taba e 'ngoe hape ke ena monna Khomo-kholo; Tsamaea u ilo hlahloba boemo ba hau setsing sefe kapa sefe sa bophelo. Ke ithutile hore you are in a fast lane monna.

A ringing phone startled me out of my deep sleep that morning. I jumped out of bed like a scared rabbit and nearly twisted my ankle as I slipped over my bedroom rug. For a momnet I had hoped that all my painfully encounters were but just a bad dream, I was wrong. My fiance was on the other line asking if we could meet and talk about the sms I send her the previous night. I had copletely forgotten that I had told her that we really have to talk about something that conern me and her.

It slowly seeped through my forgy brain that the reality is about to hit home. My mind was spinning in my thick skull, trying to comprehend the immensity of the trouble I was in. How? I asked my self almost loudly for anyone to hear, do I tell her about this encounters? How do I start, and where do I beggin? The appointment was set and the place where to break the bad news was chosen. The scorching sun outside was ice compared to the heat generating in my soul, I was purifuously sweating and a bit naseaus. Even my vision was a bit blurry that day. I needed a doctor urgently and desparately to diagnose the nothingless in me, the empty shell I called myself and to see what was wrong with the this man called me.

Waiting has never been one of my pastime really, but that day at the coffee shop, I thought I could wait forever as long as I did not have to meet with my fiance and start doing the explainging thing. I did not have to wait long after all, as she strolled into the shop, directly heading towards me. I could feel the earth beneath disentigrate and shift from side to side and my belly groaning so loud I even suspected somebody might have place an amplifer in my stomach.'Hi Babez' she said planting a sweetest kiss on my cheek as she pulled a chair facing me. I was dead already.

My friend, you honestly know how to suck curiosity and anxiety out of the reader. O tsebe motho a bala a kopeditse ka tlase ka mona mme ha a re o thola morethetho, wa e kwala. O tla re tshwarisa erectile dysfunction maan moshana ke wena. Ntsha lebese Khomokholo pele e e raha kgamela.

ha ke hloloheloe novel.go no, my brother.kapa we have to wait for another few couple of days pele u tsoela pele? Empa ke qala hoba le letsoalo la hore this is not the right place to narate your story.

Khomokholo wrote:

A ringing phone startled me out of my deep sleep that morning. I jumped out of bed like a scared rabbit and nearly twisted my ankle as I slipped over my bedroom rug. For a momnet I had hoped that all my painfully encounters were but just a bad dream, I was wrong. My fiance was on the other line asking if we could meet and talk about the sms I send her the previous night. I had copletely forgotten that I had told her that we really have to talk about something that conern me and her.
It slowly seeped through my forgy brain that the reality is about to hit home. My mind was spinning in my thick skull, trying to comprehend the immensity of the trouble I was in. How? I asked my self almost loudly for anyone to hear, do I tell her about this encounters? How do I start, and where do I beggin? The appointment was set and the place where to break the bad news was chosen. The scorching sun outside was ice compared to the heat generating in my soul, I was purifuously sweating and a bit naseaus. Even my vision was a bit blurry that day. I needed a doctor urgently and desparately to diagnose the nothingless in me, the empty shell I called myself and to see what was wrong with the this man called me.
Waiting has never been one of my pastime really, but that day at the coffee shop, I thought I could wait forever as long as I did not have to meet with my fiance and start doing the explainging thing. I did not have to wait long after all, as she strolled into the shop, directly heading towards me. I could feel the earth beneath disentigrate and shift from side to side and my belly groaning so loud I even suspected somebody might have place an amplifer in my stomach.'Hi Babez' she said planting a sweetest kiss on my cheek as she pulled a chair facing me. I was dead already.

U sound like someone (hona mona Topix), and then....

Momoza wrote:

<quoted text>
U sound like someone (hona mona Topix), and then....

Ja, ke eena eo u nahang hore ua mo tseba.

Momoza wrote:

<quoted text>
U sound like someone (hona mona Topix), and then....

U ntja ngoanaka haeba u khona ho utloa li-voice tsa batho bana.

The music lazily coming from the mounted ceiling speakers would have been nicer on other occasions but not this one. The soft harming of the music only increased my temperatures beyond themometer readings. I felt hot depite the fan thrusting the cold air on my face, in fact it was pouring its cool content all over my body. My fiance, a soft spoken lady with table manners was bussy toying with a white napkin on the table while on the one handing eying every move I made. I was fidgeting with the table spoon, not knowing where to start, not actually knowing how to say it if it ever comes at all.

At one point I wanted to call it off, or to pull up a stunt and pretended to be so sick that I would rather be home and not here. At this time my mind was not really playing nice with me, it was also twisting and turning like a wors on a frying stand. Please God, give me just this one last breath to spit it all out, just one strength to say it all and make peace with myself.'Hello people, can I take your orders now?' A tall waitress came to rescue me from my own court of law, as she inquired about our meal of the day.'What do you have?' My fiance asked noticing there was no menu on the table. As the waitress listed what they have for that day, my mind was busy listing what I would say the moment this lady left our table. She left ultimately, leaving me with that one option of saying what I had to say.'My love' I began with my knees trembling like christmas jelly.'I really need to talk to you about something. It's important and I would like you to really take your time and listen to what I got to say.' At this time she had stopped playing with the napkin, and her gaze was rooted on my face like someone watiching a very interesting but yet one hell of a scary movie. And so I began my confession.

Sash_ wrote:

<quoted text>
Ja, ke eena eo u nahang hore ua mo tseba.

ke mang?

Malaesha wrote:

<quoted text> U ntja ngoanaka haeba u khona ho utloa li-voice tsa batho bana.

kakakakakaka!! skanqabola hoseng hle.

Hmm sekhowa hle, tsoela pele he the big cow.

Khomokholo wrote:

The music lazily coming from the mounted ceiling speakers would have been nicer on other occasions but not this one. The soft harming of the music only increased my temperatures beyond themometer readings. I felt hot depite the fan thrusting the cold air on my face, in fact it was pouring its cool content all over my body. My fiance, a soft spoken lady with table manners was bussy toying with a white napkin on the table while on the one handing eying every move I made. I was fidgeting with the table spoon, not knowing where to start, not actually knowing how to say it if it ever comes at all.
At one point I wanted to call it off, or to pull up a stunt and pretended to be so sick that I would rather be home and not here. At this time my mind was not really playing nice with me, it was also twisting and turning like a wors on a frying stand. Please God, give me just this one last breath to spit it all out, just one strength to say it all and make peace with myself.'Hello people, can I take your orders now?' A tall waitress came to rescue me from my own court of law, as she inquired about our meal of the day.'What do you have?' My fiance asked noticing there was no menu on the table. As the waitress listed what they have for that day, my mind was busy listing what I would say the moment this lady left our table. She left ultimately, leaving me with that one option of saying what I had to say.'My love' I began with my knees trembling like christmas jelly.'I really need to talk to you about something. It's important and I would like you to really take your time and listen to what I got to say.' At this time she had stopped playing with the napkin, and her gaze was rooted on my face like someone watiching a very interesting but yet one hell of a scary movie. And so I began my confession.

Eaba eena o re'ng? wa qala pele o re'ng?

Big cow pleace tswela pele

Khomokholo u tsebana joang le 'sankoela maikhona' ea neng a create thread e reng 'Ruri ke soabile'??? U sothile hanyane fela ua tseba ho qopitsa boy!

Malaesha wrote:

Khomokholo u tsebana joang le 'sankoela maikhona' ea neng a create thread e reng 'Ruri ke soabile'??? U sothile hanyane fela ua tseba ho qopitsa boy!

Hahahahaha