Death of the Author

by Nnedi Okorafor

“Nah. I don’t believe in marriage. Not for myself.” “You just need to find the right man,” he said. No, I simply don’t believe in marriage, she thought. She smiled and shrugged.

“No time for that.” Her mother frowned. “You have nothing but time.” “No, I’ve got writing to do.” “That doesn’t pay your bills, Zelu. You need money.”

Lowkey they have a bit if a point...

Bilbo (a character she loved for his willingness to go on an irrational adventure).

-50 aura points

“I read it!” he said. “What?” “Your book!” She blinked. Now she was awake. “What? The whole thing?” “The. Whole. Thing.”

Cute asf unfortunately ..

in the most racist country on Earth.” “Says a South African to an American. I think we could debate that.”

Already, she could see she had 8,873 live viewers. The location stamp was enabled. “Zelu here!” she huffed, feeling almost delirious as she looked into the bright screen. “I’m . . . I’m somewhere on some road in Imo State. You can see it . . . about an hour away by car from the Port Harcourt airport. Just got carjacked . . . escaped kidnappers . . . they were after me, specifically! Guards were shooting back, so I ran . . .”

Now girl this dont seem like a good idea...