Jane Diokpo
Bio
I love writing! Thanks for reading :)
Stories (12)
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Bull’s pen
It was 1925 in Andalusia, Spain. And it was an absolutely scorching summer. The chants from hundreds of attendees at a nearby corrida rung out in the air like deafening fireworks. A bull’s cries in the ring could also be heard; it hollered and hollered, as it knew it would not be too long until it lost its life.
By Jane Diokpo4 years ago in Fiction
Fälschung
“Shut up, Mark!” Ron muttered under his breath. His little brother was driving him mad. Hell, his little brother had been driving him mad ever since he was born. As he dragged his rusty sled, all Ron wanted to do was go sledding and possibly get his highly mysterious soul mate to spend some time with him. Of course, she her self was not aware of their so called ‘bond’. But it did not mean that what Ron felt for her was not real; it did not reduce its legitimacy even one bit.
By Jane Diokpo4 years ago in Fiction
Lost burden
“Shut up, Mark!” Ron muttered under his breath. His little brother was driving him mad. Hell, his little brother had been driving him mad ever since he was born. As he dragged his rusty sled, all Ron wanted to do was go sledding and possibly get his highly mysterious soul mate to spend some time with him. Of course, she her self was not aware of their so called ‘bond’. But it did not mean that what Ron felt for her was not real; it did not reduce its legitimacy even one bit.
By Jane Diokpo4 years ago in Fiction
Matador
It was 1925 in Andalusia, Spain. And it was an absolutely scorching summer. The chants from hundreds of attendees at a nearby corrida rung out in the air like deafening fireworks. A bull’s cries in the ring could also be heard; it hollered and hollered, as it knew it would not be too long until it lost its life.
By Jane Diokpo4 years ago in Fiction
Unorthodox El Matador
It was 1925 in Andalusia, Spain. And it was an absolutely scorching summer. The chants from hundreds of attendees at a nearby corrida rung out in the air like deafening fireworks. A bull’s cries in the ring could also be heard; it hollered and hollered, as it knew it would not be too long until it lost its life.
By Jane Diokpo4 years ago in Fiction
Gender Equality and Knighthood
As I clasp the sword in my hands, I fear no man. The golden sword of truth glimmers underneath the sunlight as I brandish it back and forth, inspecting its metallic grace; its magically charmed jewels are sprinkled around several engravings of intricate marigold flowers. I, Rea, have been trusted to hold such a holy weapon of legends. And I am not exactly that surprised as I am easily the best and most skilled knight at our knight academy at only 19 years of age. Why else would they have made me one of the leaders of knights here? Why else would praises be sung wherever I go?
By Jane Diokpo5 years ago in Fiction
The unknown package
I’m on yet another boring day at my job; Receiving letters and parcels, storing letters and parcels, sorting letters and parcels, and sending them off for delivery. Taping up letters and parcels, cutting letters and parcels open, marking letters and parcels, tearing letters and parcels, and throwing letters and parcels away.
By Jane Diokpo5 years ago in Fiction
Death by Chocolate
Ruth was busy mixing a bowl of batter. Round and round her whisk turned, motored briskly by her nimble hands. Totally in the zone, she never once tore her eyes away from her work. She seized an egg and cracked it in half, before adding it to the bowl of batter. She went on whisking the contents.
By Jane Diokpo5 years ago in Fiction
A revelation from the future
“Ana, for god’s sake, will you stop being so silly and go do your chores?” Ana’s mom was already beside her self that hot summer afternoon. Her daughter refused to get out of her bed room where she was busy doing some ballet moves. Her mom banged on her bed room door again.
By Jane Diokpo5 years ago in Fiction
An Introvert’s Paradise
Disoriented, I woke up in my bed. Like always, for four months straight, it was already noon. I put down my phone after checking the time and rubbed my temples. A faint ache had gathered in that area that always comes from oversleeping- sort of my body’s way of reprimanding me for being such a lazy-ass. Honestly, I couldn’t keep track of how many days I’d woken up and felt like ending it. I was tired of my endless quest for happiness or any sort of motivation. It sure as hell wasn’t in myself, the music I listened to or the films and books I consumed. It seemed nowhere yet everywhere, just always out of my reach. That’s straight to the point and unwarranted, I know. But frankly, I suppose that’s what personal essays are all about, right? Brutal honesty? Here’s some more brutal honesty; I hadn’t written in a while, though I used to pride myself on frequent literary pursuits. Most of my screenplays and novel manuscripts had been left widely unfinished on my laptop. And for months, I’d laid on my bed attending all my Zoom classes then crying for the rest of the day.
By Jane Diokpo5 years ago in Motivation
Nigerian fried plantains and scrambled eggs in Vancouver
Back at home, meals like fried plantains — a sickly-sweet dish of deep fried plantains that is typically served with scrambled eggs — were common, especially for lunch or dinner. There was obviously a fair mix of more Western options in our daily food choices, but cultural food was never set aside because there’s nothing more special than partaking in and enjoying one’s cultural heritage.
By Jane Diokpo5 years ago in Feast
A Message for the King
“Again.” Daesr ordered the anti-gravity chamber operators. Rae was instantly launched into the air and while she swooped around within the chamber’s glass walls, Daesr ordered for the gravity to be returned. Nimbly, she somersaulted before landing right on her feet. She flipped her curly bob and grinned triumphantly. Meanwhile, Daesr looked unsatisfied.
By Jane Diokpo5 years ago in Fiction
